


Here I Come, Literally

by kayybeltran



Series: Here She Comes [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Doctor Clarke, F/F, F/M, Fine Stud Lexa, Fluff and Smut, G!p Lexa, Happy Ending, Jealous Clarke, Jealous Lexa, Lexa Has IED - Intermittent Explosive Disorder, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:37:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 53,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7497978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayybeltran/pseuds/kayybeltran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Clarke! I'm home!"</p><p>They both freeze. Clarke looks down at the panting woman beneath her, a horrified expression on her face.</p><p>"Is that Finn?" Lexa growls out. "Clarke, you said he wouldn't be back from his trip until tomorrow!"</p><p>Or -</p><p>Clarke and Lexa are friends with benefits whenever Finn, Clarke’s husband, goes out of town for work. That’s all it’s supposed to be. Except it’s not. They’re both in love with each other but at the same time, they’re really oblivious about it. (Ft Playgirl Lexa and Jealous Clarke.) This is just angsty and messy shit. Don’t read this. </p><p>(Also, Lexa has IED, Intermittent Explosive Disorder, which is a rage and anger disorder. Throughout the fic, Lexa’s disorder makes various appearances. So, watch out for some violence. This is also a g!p and cheating fic. So if this is not your shot of vodka, then I suggest you skedaddle homie.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Maybe Next Time

**Author's Note:**

> im a gay slut for g!p lexa fics  
> sue me
> 
> \- kay

“Now, take off your shirt and your bra.” Clarke’s voice is husky and heavy with arousal as she watches her best friend do as she’s told. With a smirk, the brunette wastes no time in stripping out of her bra and crisp shirt before dropping them on the floor, right next to her pants. Clarke shamelessly runs her eyes over Lexa’s body, her grip on her bed’s sheets getting tighter and tighter as she bites her lip. But then— “ _Wait_. Is that new ink?” She rises to her feet and steps forward, unable to take her eyes away from the new design along Lexa’s left arm. “When did you get this one?”

Lexa shrugs as she looks down at Clarke’s lips. “I don’t know,” she says uninterested. “Last week maybe?” The brunette finds the soft knot on Clarke’s robe and works it free. “I’m guessing you like it,” she murmurs with a wolfish grin when Clarke’s eyes turn dark. “You can touch it, you know?” With one hand, Lexa moves Clarke’s robe aside and runs her calloused fingers down Clarke’s side before moving them down to press hard against pastel pink panties.

“Fuck,” Clarke gasps with a jolt. She pushes against Lexa’s chest to shove the brunette onto the bed. Straddling Lexa’s hips, she runs her hands along the brunette’s chest and arms, tracing the dark lines and swirls of new ink. Lexa’s skin, like always, is warm and smooth under her touch. She cups Lexa’s neck and brings her in for a filthy and hot kiss. “You know tattoos turn me on,” she whispers when she finally lets Lexa breathe. The brunette puts her hands on Clarke’s hips and cranes her head upwards so that she can look at her.

“I know,” the brunette murmurs as she smirks. “You’re weak for them.”

Clarke rolls her eyes but smiles nonetheless, ignoring the way Lexa’s adoring gaze makes her chest feel heavy and warm. She circles one of Lexa’s nipples with a fingertip, careful not to nick it with her sharp nail. “I am,” she says and her voice is husky, how she knows Lexa likes it. “They make me wet. Especially on you.” Lexa’s breathing gets heavier at her words and she unintentionally bucks her hips.

The brunette’s nipple, under Clarke’s fingertips, is already stiff. Her chest is beginning to flush red, and when Clarke begins to roll and squeeze the other nipple, she feels Lexa’s erection throb against her panties. She feels herself getting wetter, pressing slick against Lexa’s clothed dick. She thrusts her hips, testing, and her panties are damp enough that she can feel a swollen head rub against her clit, giving her the pressure she needs. Biting her lip, she does it again and again, earning a choked hiss from Lexa.

“ _Jesus_ , Clarke.” Lexa’s spine arches as she digs her fingers into Clarke’s ass. She cranes her neck upwards and begins to bite and lick at Clarke’s neck as she uses her grip on Clarke’s ass to move Clarke’s hips against her own, rolling them back and forth, helping them both reach their high.

“Like that,” Clarke pants out as she grinds wetly, her eyes closed in pure bliss as she feels a familiar twine of heat start low in her abdomen. “Lexa, _don’t stop_.”

Who knew that a thick ass stack of medical jargon would have them like this? Only about an hour ago was Clarke talking on the phone with Lexa, begging her to come over and help her understand all the legal documents the hospital gave her to revise. But now here they are, medical documents abandoned downstairs while they dry hump like a bunch of teenagers. Neither of them are complaining though and from the looks of it, they aren’t even thinking about it.

The brunette’s grip on Clarke’s ass tightens, her hands steady as she rocks against Clarke, coaxing the ache between Clarke’s legs into an unbearable heat that has Clarke gasping for air. She claws at Lexa’s back, kissing the brunette clumsily and sloppily as she moans, the pressure that’s building down below only seconds away from bursting. She doesn’t even care that she’s embarrassingly close. It’s been too long.

“Lexa,” she moans out. “I’m right there, just a little more.” She feels Lexa’s face press against her neck, teeth scraping against her pulse point, and from the way Lexa’s grip begins to falter, Clarke knows she’s close too. “Cum with me, baby,” she coaxes and Lexa moans, filthy and loud. “Cum with me—“

“Clarke, I’m gonna cum,” Lexa groans out as she begins to rut against her. Clarke lets her head fall back. The feeling of Lexa’s hard dick sliding over her sensitive folds making her toes curl.

“Oh my god, Lexa! I’m gonna—“

A door slams below them.

_“Clarke! I’m home!”_

They both freeze. With a horrified expression, Clarke looks down at the woman panting beneath her.

“Is that fucking Finn?” Lexa growls out as she lifts Clarke off of her and hastily places her on the bed. Clarke represses a whine. She was **_so close._** “You said he wouldn’t be back from his trip until tomorrow, Clarke!” Clarke quickly scrambles off of an angry Lexa and runs into her closest, grabbing the nearest pair of pants and shirt she can find. The panic that’s resting heavily in her chest quickly lessens when she remembers that Finn usually takes his sweet ass time to take off his shoes and his coat.

When she runs back into the room, she sees Lexa with a shirt on, frantically trying to put on her pants and failing miserably.

Lexa turns around when she heart a small snicker. “Clarke, are you serious right now?” she hisses as she watches the blonde snicker into her palm.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” Clarke rushes out in whisper, amusement coating her words. “It’s just, you looked so cute struggling to put on your pants.” Lexa glares at her as she zips up her pants, glancing dangerously at the door. “By they way, you’re still really hard, Lexa.” The brunette looks down and curses under her breath when she sees that Clarke is right, she’s still sporting a hard on.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Hurriedly, the brunette tries to hide her erection as best as she can. And then, to their fucking horror, Finn’s voice carries itself up the stairs.

_“Baby, are you upstairs?”_

After Lexa finally manages to hide her hard erection, she looks at Clarke and nods.

“Yeah, Finn! I’m up here with Lexa,” Clarke finally responds. The brunette fixes the collar of her white shirt and moves Clarke’s curls so that the fall over her shoulder, hiding Lexa’s bite marks. Clarke looks up at Lexa and kisses her quickly, murmuring a quick _thank you_. Finn’s steps coming up the stairs distract Clarke enough that she doesn’t see the small enamored smile Lexa sends her way.

A moment later, the door to the bedroom opens, revealing Clarke’s husband. “Hey babe,” he murmurs as he kisses Clarke, he then turns to the cringing brunette with a smile on his face. “Hey, Lexa. What are you doing here?” He puts an arm around Clarke’s waist, Lexa following his every move. She ignores the tight clench of her fists and the faint sound of blood rushing through her ears.

“Hello, Finn,” she replies back, her voice plain and uninterested. “Clarke just wanted me to come over and help her with a few legal documents. I think she just likes to take advantage of me,” when Clarke glares at her, knowing her words hold a double meaning, Lexa continues, “— advantage of the fact that her best friend is the best lawyer this town’s ever seen.” Her words do fly over Finn’s dumbass head and he chuckles.

“Don’t I know it!” he says, and kisses Clarke’s cheek. “Did you guys get anywhere with it?”

Clarke’s eyes immediately go to Lexa’s hidden erection and Lexa doesn’t miss it. She looks directly at Clarke with a secretive smirk, one that the blonde easily notices, and says, “Yeah. As a matter of fact, we were so, _so_ close to finishing. But then you kind of interrupted us.”

Finn doesn’t notice when Clarke turns beet red and glares at Lexa. He just chuckles apologetically and pats Lexa’s back. She stiffens momentarily but says nothing. “Well,” he mutters. “Maybe you guys can finish next time, right?”

“Yeah,” Lexa murmurs, looking at a red and flustered Clarke. “Maybe next time.”


	2. Starfish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flash back to when the best friend f*cking started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are awesome.  
> thanks for the kudos and nice comments.  
> enjoy this!
> 
> \- kay

High School - Senior Year

 

Moments ago, Clarke finally gained the courage to tell her best friend about the plan she has been formulating for months now. 

A plan that involved Lexa popping Clarke’s cherry. 

You see, Clarke was one of those rare 18 year old virgins. 

It wasn’t because she was unattractive, or because she was saving herself for that special someone, or because she was a saint (the nickname Party Animal Griffin pretty much proved that), 

She was a virgin because of school. 

School was her number one priority, it always has been. So she didn’t have time for have sex or relationships. She only had time for extra credit assignments, extra classes, and summer internships. But now, with graduation being one week away, school was no longer her number one priority, at least not for months. So she was more than ready, because she most definitely was not going to start college as a virgin. 

As everyone knows, college is the time in a person’s life where you try to experience everything. So what if she wanted to have some hot-steamy fun in college? Or what if she wanted to have a one night stand with some college boys or girls? She wanted to be ready for that, and being a virgin was not exactly helping. 

And so that’s where Lexa came in. 

Lexa, the school’s soccer team captain.

Lexa, the school’s notable player.

Lexa, her hot best friend. 

Everyone was well aware of Lexa’s sex-capades, so Clarke knew the brunette had the experience necessary to pleasure her and since they’ve been best friends for 13 years, there was no one else she trusted more with this plan. 

But also knowing Lexa, she knew that the brunette might not exactly agree to it. 

So when the brunette said yes, she was kind of fucking surprised. 

-

“You sure about this Clarke?” Lexa asks trying to keep her voice steady, but failing miserably. 

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Yes, Lex, for the millionth time, I’m sure.” Clarke grabs the front of Lexa’s jersey and pulls her in close. Lexa dips her head a bit so that their lips are slightly brushing. 

“Now, work your magic. Woo me, make me scream, or whatever it is you do to those poor girls,” the blonde whispers. 

The brunette scowls at her best friend, “Clarke, shut the fu-" Clarke closes the distance between them and starts kissing Lexa. She kisses her with fervor, like she needs it, because fuck, does she need it. Clarke wants this, and she wants this with Lexa. Years and years of pent up sexual frustration cannot be healthy; She’s ready, the small throbbing below her waistline proves it. 

Lexa’s hands slide up her back as they kiss. A feeling that makes Clarke shiver. 

It only takes a couple of seconds for Lexa to take control of the kiss. She prys Clarke’s mouth open with her tongue and begins her assault. Clarke’s never been kissed like this before and she’s had her fair share of make out sessions. 

Moaning as Lexa’s tongue dances with her own, she feels the brunette’s hands move from her back to them hem of her shirt, where she begins to tug. They break the kiss so that Clarke can take off her shirt. Thankfully, she decided not to wear a bra when she called Lexa over. 

As she starts to take off her shirt, she feels Lexa’s eyes rake her body as more and more skin becomes exposed. When her shirt if fully off, she let’s Lexa take in the sight in front of her. 

Lexa’s dick twitches when her eyes land on Clarke’s voluptuous breasts and pink nipples. When they first broke the kiss, Lexa was impatient and wanted her mouth back on Clarke’s immediately. But then Clarke took off her shirt, and holy fucking shit. 

Lexa puts her hands on Clarke’s hips and gently pushes her onto the bed. Once she sees that the blonde is laying down comfortably, she follows and hovers on top of her, putting her hands on either side of Clarkes’s head, not wanting to rest her full weight on the smaller girl. As soon as she’s settled, Lexa starts running her mouth and tongue over Clarke’s newly exposed skin, ignoring the way her dick is already painfully straining against her jeans. While she wraps her lips around a perked up nipple, her right hand begins to roam Clarke’s ample form. Clarke’s skin is as soft as she would’ve imagined, had she ever thought about her this way. 

With the sensation of having her nipple sucked, and Lexa’s nimble fingers tracing her ribs, Clarke moans and bucks her hips, almost involuntarily. “Sh-shit, that feels really good Lex.” The brunette above her mumbles her agreeance still busy with the pink nipple and lowers herself in between Clarke’s thighs. She slowly starts to grind her bulge into the blonde’s core, the action eliciting a loud moan from both of them. The feeling of Lexa’s hard erection pressing against her throbbing center has Clarke so overwhelmed, that she barely realizes she’s still wearing shorts and Lexa's still fully clothed. Clarke tries to get her breathing under control before speaking. “Our clothes, we should- fuck, we should take them off,” she says, clawing at the brunette’s jersey. 

Lexa stops her ministrations and buries her face in the nook of Clarke’s neck. “Ok,” she agrees. 

As soon as she hears Lexa’s husky voice, Clarke feels another surge of heat twist unsymphatetically in her lower abdomen. Lexa reluctantly gets off the blonde and off the bed. She extends her hand towards her best friend and helps her up as well and without wasting any time, Lexa starts to strip. She grabs the collar of her jersey, and swiftly lifts it over her head. Clarke wets her lips as she takes in Lexa’s lean muscled form. Her eyes trace over the brunette's abs and Clarke found herself wanting to run her tongue over each and every one of them. Clarke was never an abs kind of girl.... until now. 

Lexa smirks, noticing Clarke's staring. “You should take a picture Clarke, it’ll last longer.” 

The blonde turns red with embarrassment, knowing she's been caught. “Shut up,” she grumbles.

Soon enough, they’re both standing in nothing but their underwear, just staring at each other. Not wanting things to get awkward, Clarke quickly shoves Lexa on the bed and straddles her. 

For a second, Lexa’s eyes widen at the action before she covers Clarke’s mouth with her own. Clarke’s hips twitch, earning a gasp in response as she settles into the kiss. As Lexa snakes her arms around the blonde’s back to hold her in place, Clarke clasps her hands behind the brunette's neck before she starts to grind her hips against Lexa's erection with increasing speed, making it more difficult for both of them think. 

Lexa detaches her lips from the blonde’s and tries to concentrate on tasting Clarke’s nipples instead. Lexa intended to make it slow and sensual so that the blonde could enjoy, but Clarke’s grinding against her straining dick only directs her to a sloppy haste of licking and biting. 

With the many stimulations going all over her body, Clarke feels herself overheat and soon enough, she can’t take it any longer. “Lexa,” Clarke pants. “Take off your boxers. I’m ready.” 

Lexa nods and gently lifts Clarke away from her lap. She elevates her hips so she can pull her boxers down. As soon as the piece of clothing is low enough, her hard dick slaps against her stomach, standing ready. 

Sitting down beside the brunette, Clarke takes in the sight of Lexa’s dick. 

She takes in a shaky breath. Lexa was bigger than she expected. 

Lexa notices the worry on her best friends face and quickly tries to ease her. “Clarke, we don’t have to do this. If you've changed your mind, it's fine.”

Clarke quickly shakes her head and bites her lip. “No, it's not that.” The brunette cocks her head to the side, clearly not understanding, so Clarke continues. “It’s just… You- you’re bigger than I expected.” 

Lexa’s face turns red as she finally understands what Clarke is saying. “Oh, Lexa breathes out. “You do know that I would never hurt you, right?” 

Clarke ignores the way her heart skips a beat at the small statement her best friend made. “I know, I know. I’m just a little more nervous now. You’re going to have to tell me what to do, okay Lex?” 

The brunette nods. “Alright, well um… You can take off your underwear and lay down. I’m gonna go get a condom from my wallet.” With that, Lexa stands and makes her way towards her jeans. As Lexa’s digging through the pockets of her jeans, a fully naked Clarke struggles to get into a good position on the bed and when Lexa finally returns with a small foil packet in her hands, she takes in the sight of a sprawled out Clarke and starts to laugh uncontrollably. 

Clarke’s brow immediately furrows in confusion. “What’s so funny, Lexa? Care to share with the class?”

“You look like a fucking starfish, Clarke!” Lexa says as she continues to laugh. 

Clarke glares at her best friend. “You said, ‘lay down on the bed.’ You didn’t say how!” 

“I just meant get comfortable, Clarke.” 

The blonde rolls her eyes and flicks off the still laughing brunette. “You’re so fucking weird Lexa, I swear.”

“Shut up, Clarke. It’s not my fault you looked like a fucking starfish,” Lexa says as her laughter starts to die down. 

Lexa was so busy laughing at Clarke, that she didn’t even notice that the blonde was fully naked. So when she finally notices the small blonde curls below Clarke’s naval, she chokes on air, letting out what sounded like a strangled cry. 

Clarke’s eyes widen at the sound. “See, so fucking weird. You just proved my point.” 

After a moment, Clarke notices that Lexa is still standing there just staring at her vagina. “You know, if we’re going to do this, I’m going to need you to fuck me, not just stand there and stare,” she teases. 

“Very funny, Clarke. Just hilarious,” the brunette says sarcastically as she makes her way towards the bed. Shee sits on the edge of the bed, and tears the foil packet open with her teeth and as soon as she’s about to unroll the condom on her dick, she feels a head on her shoulder. 

“Can I help you, Clarke?” 

“Nope. I just wanna see how you do it.”

Lexa slowly nods and continues to work on unrolling the condom on her dick. 

Once she’s done putting it on, Clarke goes back to lay on the bed, less starfishy this time. Lexa follows suit and hovers on top of her like before. She looks down at Clarke hesitantly, considering what to do next. 

Rolling her eyes at Lexa's hesitancy, Clarke impatiently wraps her arms around the brunette’s neck and pulls her down for a kiss. 

The kiss was different this time. It was slow and a bit more…passionate and less lustful. 

Clarke moans and bucks her hips when she feels one of Lexa’s nimble fingers dip into her folds, slowly sliding up and down, spreading her wet arousal as a thumb rubs on her clit. She feels Lexa smirk against the kiss, clearly proud of her actions.

Well, two can play that game. 

Clarke slowly takes a hand away from brunettes’s neck and slowly drags it down the girls abs before gripping Lexa's cock. Lexa immediately breaks away from the kiss, breathing hard, “Fucking shit, Clarke.”

Clarke is the one that smirks this time. She starts to stroke Lexa slowly, feeling the dick twitch in her hand every time she makes contact with the underside of the head. Stroking Lexa's big dick in her hand sends a surge of both fear and excitement to Clarke's wet core and suddenly, she wants it inside of her. 

“Lexa,” Clarke husks, once the brunette has opened her eyes, she continues. “I need to be on top. I read online that it’s supposed to feel better that way when it's your first time.”

Quickly, Lexa nods and lets herself fall next to where the blonde was laying. “So, you did your research huh?” Lexa says with a bit of amusement coating her tongue. 

Clarke just shrugs as she straddles Lexa. “Raven told me her first time didn’t hurt that much. But Octavia told me her first time with Lincoln did.” 

Lexa grimaces at the mention of Octavia getting it on with her brother. 

“And also,” Clarke continues as she puts her hands on Lexa’s chest, “I kind of want this to be good. You know?” Clarke doesn’t give Lexa the chance to respond, forcing her tongue inside of her mouth. She rolls her pelvis against Lexa’s throbbing dick over and over, and smiles when she feels the brunette groan and moan into the kiss. When she finally can’t take it anymore, Clarke takes Lexa’s cock in her hand. 

“Slowly,” she cautions, as she guides Lexa to her entrance. 

Not being able to formulate any words, Lexa only nods and places her hands on the blonde’s hips. Slowly and very carefully, Clarke starts to sink on the brunette’s condom covered cock. It takes all of Lexa’s will power not to just pull the blonde down and impale her with her shaft. 

When Clarke feel’s the head of Lexa's dick penetrate her pussy, she hisses at the slight sting it causes and Lexa’s brows shoot up in concern.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Clarke assures the brunette. “It just stung a bit.” Very slowly, Clarke lets herself sink on Lexa’s cock in between minute increments, only sinking down when she knows her tight walls will accept Lexa’s wide girth. 

Once Lexa felt Clarke take her full length within her, she stayed as still as she possibly could and started rubbing circles with her thumbs on the blonde’s hips. “Clarke, just breathe okay?” 

Clarke nods and lets her head fall on the brunette’s shoulder as she lets her pussy get used to Lexa’s size. How can something feel painful, yet so very good?

“I feel… so full Lexa,” Clarke whimpers. 

“I wouldn’t know the feeling,” the brunette says, eliciting a small laugh from the blonde. 

After a moment, Clarke lifts her head off of Lexa’s shoulder, returning her hands to the brunettes chest and nods, “Okay, I’m ready to move.” Clarke lifts her hips and slowly starts to grind, feeling Lexa’s cock go deeper and deeper inside. It still takes a while for Clarke to get used to it, long enough that Lexa starts to get desperate and slowly starts to thrust upwards to meet Clarke's slow grinding. “Is this okay?” she asks the blonde.

“Yes,” Clarke moans as her eyelids close. "Just like that.”

Lexa lifts her head up to the blonde’s neck and starts to kiss and bite it hungrily as one of her hands starts to play with Clarke’s clit. She wants the blonde to feel wondrous pleasure since it’s her first time, so she ignores the way tight walls feel like a vice around her dick. She has no idea how she’s keeping it together. 

When fingers start to roll and rub her clit, Clarke feels like she’s about half a second away from cumming. She starts grinding more wantonly on top of the brunette as her breathing comes out in gasps and tiny moans. “I think, I think I’m about to cum Lexa,” she whines.

Lexa, wanting her best friend to get off for the first time, starts moving her fingers faster while she sucks on the blonde's pulse point harder. With a loud whine, Clarke comes apart on top of her, clenching her already tight walls harder around her hard dick. Clarke continues to slowly rock her hips as her orgasm eases. When it finally subsides, she opens her eyes and looks down at the grinning brunette, and when she notices that her nails are digging into Lexa’s chest, she quickly removes them. “Sorry,” she says sheepishly. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Lexa says as she quickly flips them over. When she sees that she has Clarke underneath her, she gives her a mischievous smile. “I’m not done with you yet, Clarke.”

She grabs the blonde’s hands and puts them on her chest again. “I’m going to go slow. If it feels bad, or like if you need me to stop, just push my chest back alright?”

Clarke smiles at the worry in Lexa’s voice, and nods.

Lexa positions herself with her right hand, putting her left hand on the headboard. Gently she uses the headboard to draw herself towards Clarke, pushing in gently till she’s balls deep inside. Lexa looks down at the blonde, trying to notice any type of discomfort, and when she notices none, she slowly starts to thrust in and out, trying to get the blonde used to her. 

“Clarke, are you doing okay?” Lexa asks as she kisses the side of Clarke's neck, “It’s not painful, is it?”

Clarke shakes her head. “No, no. It feels good Lex.”

The brunette takes that as a good sign and slightly increases her pace. Clarke’s so tight around her cock that it makes her want to lose all control and just rutt into her, but thats not what this is supposed to be about. This isn’t about her, this is about Clarke. She bites her lip, and continues to focus on making Clarke cum again, even though she’s painfully close. 

“Lexa.”

“Mmm?”

“I’m close, I need-”

“What do you need Clarke?”

“Harder, I need you- I need you to fuck me harder.”

Moaning at Clarke’s words, Lexa grasps the headboard of the bed with both hands and complies, slightly pounding her already pulsating dick into Clarke’s tight pussy. 

Clarke wraps her thighs around Lexa’s hips and moans loudly when she feels the new sensations this angle gives her. She grabs Lexa’s neck and pulls her in for a sloppy kiss when she feels the brunette’s hips brush against her sensitive clit. Oh, she was ready again, so very ready. 

Lexa suddenly feels Clarke’s walls grip her cock tighter and now she wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to last any longer. She rubs her hips against the blonde’s clit in an insistent matter, wanting her to cum first. 

“Let go, Clarke.” she says into the kiss. “Cum for me.”

And that’s all it took for Clarke. Clarke's breath hitches before she clamps down on Lexa tighter than the brunette could’ve ever imagined, and releases the loudest moan Lexa had ever heard. 

Lexa gives a few more thrusts before her movements start to grow more erratic.

Lexa feels utter relief when she finally allows herself to spill inside of the condom. It’s so heavenly, that she doesn’t even care about the embarrassing cry that comes out of her lips. She rest’s her forehead on top of Clarke’s collarbone as they both try to catch their breath. After a while, Lexa pulls out and deals with the condom before laying down next to the blonde. She kisses Clarke on the cheek before gently drawing her against her chest, wrapping her arms around her. 

“Thank you, Lexa.” Clarke says after a beat of silence.

Lexa faces the blonde and gives her a serious look. “Just doing my job, ma’am.”

Clarke chuckles before punching Lexa in the arm. “You’re so weird.”

“How are you feeling/” Lexa asks seriously this time. “Does anything hurt or something?”

Clarke shakes her head no. “Surprisingly, I just feel a little sore, but not painful wise. I do feel, kind of empty though. It’s weird.”

Lexa nods her head and grins. “You know, that’s a problem I can help you with.” 

Clarke punches her again. 

-

They lay in bed together — whispering about non important things and laughing when the brunette makes a terrible joke — all while Lexa holds on to Clarke tightly. Clarke lets herself sink into the embrace, ignoring the way it makes her feel so safe and so loved. 

-

When sleep is about to overtake her, Clarke hears the brunette behind her laugh lightly. She cranes her neck to the side so she can face Lexa.

“What’s so funny?” she asks. 

“I just thought of a new contact name for you,” Lexa says biting her lip. 

Clarke narrows her eyes at the brunette. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mmmm, it’s going to be Patrick.”

“Patrick? Like from spongebob?”

Lexa nods.

“What? I don- Lexa, why are you laughing? I don’t get it! Why Patrick?”

“Because Clarke,” Lexa says in between laughs, “Patrick is a starfish.”

“LEXA!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you guys got the lame ass starfish joke i made at the end there.  
> i tried to make this chapter as real as i could, but idk if i succeeded.  
> (i didn't lose my vcard to a penis)  
> anyways, if you guys have any suggestions or ideas for future  
> chapters, let me know. i'm all ears and shit.  
> take care homies  
> twitter @lexagriff  
> \- kay


	3. Blonde Wars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is after finn's little interruption.  
> lexa tries to run away from her feelings using the power of pussy,  
> but bro, you can't run away from feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> italics = sarcasm or lexa's thoughts
> 
> \- kay

As soon as she walks out of Clarke’s house, Lexa takes out her phone and dials a number.

“Hello?”

“It’s Lexa.”

“Your place or mine?”

“Mine.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in 20.”

With that, Lexa hangs up, straddles her motorcycle and drives off towards her loft.

-

Lexa’s sitting on the couch nursing a whiskey neat, _not_ thinking about Clarke, when she hears a knock at the door. She gets up and makes her way across the loft.

She looks through the peephole, and smirks as she opens the door. “You said 20 minutes, you’re late.” Lexa watches as the blonde makes her way inside and heads straight to the bedroom.

Harper rolls her eyes. “I’m literally five minutes late Lexa, shut up.”

Lexa met Harper about a year ago, at a family cookout Clarke's mother was hosting. Harper had just ended a three year relationship and was looking for someone to satisfy her womanly needs, without the whole feelings fiasco. And of course, with Lexa being the queen of quick and easy, Harper found what she was looking for. After their quick session in Abby’s bathroom, they ended up establishing a unique friendship, one based on sex and late night bootycalls. Harper would text the brunette whenever she was horny and Lexa would call the blonde whenever she was feeling stressed and sought relief.

_Unique friendship as fuck._

Lexa chugs her whiskey before following the blonde towards the bedroom. Totally _not_ checking out her ass from behind.

Once they’re inside the room, Lexa hastily turns Harper around so that they’re facing each other, and closes the distance between them with a harsh kiss, one that involves the clashing of tongues and teeth.

Thanks to Finn and his interruption, Lexa was still very horny and very angry. But Lexa wasn’t angry because she didn’t get to cum, no, she was angry because… well…

_Because at the end of the day, the one who gets to sleep next to Clarke is Finn and not you._

Quickly, she shakes the thought out of her head and continues to kiss and grope Harper gruffly, doing whatever it takes to distract her from thinking about Clarke. She puts her hands below the blonde’s ass and hoists her up before pinning her against the wall when she feels the girl’s legs wrap around her waist.

Harper starts to grind herself against Lexa, panting hard as she tangles her fingers into long brown locks.

Wanting to feel more skin, Lexa starts to tug and pull at the other girl’s shirt, but her impatience gets the best of her and she yanks the thin shirt till it rips. She moves the torn piece of clothing aside and roughly pushes a lacey bra down, exposing Harper’s small-round breasts. Lexa bends down slightly and takes one nipple in her mouth before taking in the other, sucking and biting hard until the other girl moaned and gasped. Lexa’s dick was starting to become painfully hard, so while her mouth continued it’s assault, she gripped the blonde’s hips to keep her still, and began to rub herself against her, trying to find some sort of relief.

The sounds coming out of Harper’s mouth only made Lexa want more.

With one hand, Lexa reaches down between them and begins to unfasten the zipper of her jeans. She then grabs Harper’s skirt and pushes it up to give her the necessary access. Lexa quickly shoves the girl’s thong to the side before sinking her fingers deep inside of her, making the girl cry out in pleasure and surprise.

As she keeps two fingers deep inside of Harper, Lexa uses the pad of her thumb to rub the girl’s clit, teasing her. Harper arches herself towards Lexa, wanting more.

“Lexa, stop fucking teasing me,” she breathes out, “Fuck me already!”

The brunette smirks into the girl’s chest. She pulls her fingers out of the blonde’s warm heat and reaches into her jeans to free her straining erection from it’s tight confinements. Her cock is so slick with precum and so hard from all the previous foreplay, that she can’t bear it any longer.

“Hold on to me,” Lexa grunts. When she feels arms wrap tightly around her shoulders, Lexa grips the blonde’s hips and groans when she slams inside of her with ease. Slowly, she slides back out before slamming her hips inside of the blonde again. She repeats this intense action over and over again, moaning everytime her cock bottoms out.

Lexa rests her forehead against Harper’s as she starts losing herself in a sloppy rhythm that she can’t seem to control. She continues to pound faster and faster into the blonde, selfishly wanting to feel nothing but pleasure.

“Yes, Lexa! Yes!” the blonde yells as she quickly starts to reach her peak.

Lexa continues to drive into her, and when she feels fingernails start to scrape her back, Lexa feels herself come closer to the edge as well.

“Fuck! Lexa! Don’t stop! Don’t stop Lexa,” Harper moans out before she stiffens in Lexa’s arms as her orgasm ripples through her.

Lexa _doesn’t_ imagine a different blonde moaning out her name.

Lexa _doesn’t_ imagine a different blonde scratching her sensitive back.

Lexa _doesn’t_ imagine a different blonde clenching around her cock.

The feeling of Harper trembling and clenching around her shaft, sends Lexa over the edge, where she stays momentarily as she begins to chant out the blonde’s name in blissful satisfaction.

Except that it isn’t Harper’s name she’s chanting.

When she realizes it’s Clarke’s name that’s coating her tongue, Lexa immediately clamps her mouth shut, but it was too late.

As she lowers Harper down, the girl shoots her an amused look before she starts to strip the remaining clothes off her body.

“So… This was about Clarke again, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lexa says, already laying down on the bed. She doesn’t have the energy within her to take off her clothes, clearly spent.

“Oh, really? So you, calling me at 11pm on a Tuesday, has nothing to do with Clarke?” the blonde asks as she lays down next to her exhausted friend.

When Lexa doesn’t respond, Harper chuckles softly as she curls up next to her.

“One day you’re going to have to tell her, Lexa.”

“Tell her what?”

“That you’re in love with her.”

Lexa only scoffs before lying to herself and Harper. “I’m not in love with Clarke.” _I can’t be._

“I would believe you Lexa, but need I remind you, this was probably the twentieth time you’ve moaned out her name while you’ve been balls deep inside of me.”

“Harper, I.. I’m not in love with her,” Lexa says quietly but not defensively. “Even if I was… She’s still married to Finn. Which means… she’ll always choose him.”

Harper only rolls her eyes. She’s been in both of their lives long enough to know that they’re clearly in love with each other. What Lexa needed was proof that Clarke felt the same way. Harper was most definitely going to get that proof for her friend, she deserved it.

“Goodnight Lex,” Harper says as she kisses Lexa’s cheek, and with that, the blonde falls asleep almost immediately.

It takes Lexa about three hours of _not_ thinking about Clarke to fall asleep.

-

Harper dreams of happiness.

-

Lexa dreams of happiness too, her favorite blonde choosing her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, slight angst is making an appearance soon, cause them feelings gotta come out somehow right?  
> also i made harper a bad bitch in this fic, cause why the fuck not.  
> if you guys have any ideas and what not, i'm all ears and shit.  
> take care homies!  
> twitter @lexagriff
> 
> \- kay


	4. Fig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flashback: alpha's meet finn for the first time.  
> some background on lexa.  
> also how/why clarke and lexa's friendship is a strong one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Intermittent Explosive Disorder- a behavioral disorder  
> characterized by explosive outbursts of anger and  
> violence, triggered by relatively inconsequential events.

_6 Years Ago - College - Junior Year_

 

Lexa and Bellamy are lounging on the couch, beers in hand, watching an alien documentary while they wait for Clarke’s new boyfriend to come pick her up. One could obviously tell they were very eager to meet him by the boring expression mounted on their faces.

An ugly looking alien with an oversized head comes out on the screen, making Lexa snort. “Hey Bell.”

“Huh?”

“That’s you,” she says pointing to the tv.

“Fuck you, asshole.”

Bellamy and Lexa’s friendship was one for the books. When Clarke first introduced them to each other in middle school, they immediately had trouble getting along. No one knew why. That was, until they started high school.

As they grew into their high school years, they were pretty much influenced by their raging hormones. Both of them were practically alpha’s. Their big ass prides always clashed together, causing them to fight over girls and other meaningless shit. They were always challenging each other, trying to be on top. The only thing keeping them from literally killing each other was Clarke, but ironically enough, Clarke was also one of the main reasons why they wanted to kill each other.

They were both very protective of Clarke. Bellamy loved her like a sister, whereas Lexa loved her like a best friend. They would do anything for her. But of course, they were both blinded by their biggo prides that they couldn’t see that. And since sharing was a foreign concept to them, the only thing they could see was that they were both too close to Clarke for each of their liking.

But during their junior year of high school at a party, they both bonded when a drunk Quint touched Clarke’s ass without her consent. They realized then that they wanted the same thing for her, protection and happiness. So as they took turns punching Quint, they came to an agreement. They were to put their macho-ness aside for the sake of Clarke.

Surprisingly, they immediately became best buds, having many things in common. (Mostly girls.)

Even though they still fought from time to time, they grew to become great friends that trusted each other. So if Lexa didn’t like someone, Bellamy didn’t like them either and vice versa.

“So,” Bellamy says, getting up to grab more beers, “do we like Finn?”

“No.”

“Hmm. Any particular reason we don’t like him?”

Lexa just shrugs. “No, I just get a bad vibe from him.”

_Sure you do._

Smirking, he sits down next to her and hands her a beer. “Bullshit. You haven’t even met him yet.” He takes a sip of his beer, clearly unaffected by the dark look Lexa gives him. “You know, a little birdie told me it might have something to do with the fact that you and Clarke stopped fucking each other after he asked her out officially.”

“I’m going to kill Raven’s bird-ass.” she scowls, which only makes him laugh.

Everyone knew that Lexa and Clarke slept together from time to time. The gang also knew that their two idiot friends had feelings for each other but were apparently too oblivious to even see them. So, being the good group of helpful friends that they were, they did the most logical thing when it came to their friend’s feelings… They placed bets on them.

_Friendship motherfucker._

Bellamy is about to respond when a knock at the door stops him.

“Babes! That must be Finn! Can you invite him in? I'm not done getting ready,” Clarke yells from the bathroom.

They both get up from the couch, quickly chugging their beers and shoving each other out of the way.

Once at the door, Bellamy turns to face Lexa and notices she’s practicing her stoic glare. “Oh shit, you're going all commander mode I see, scary,” he says sarcastically.

“Shut the hell up,” she punches him in the arm. “One of us has to look intimidating and it’s obviously not going to be you.”

“Wha- hey! I can be intimidating! Look!” He gives her his best scowl, which only makes her snort. “Intimidating my ass. It looks like you’re trying to lay an egg.”

Before he can respond, Lexa opens the door, revealing a gawky brunette.

_Wow, he’s short._

“Hello.. I’m here to pick up Clarke.” Finn says to the glaring duo. They just stare at him, not responding to his dumbass obvious statement. The silence and the furious eye gazing only makes him shift uncomfortably.

Trying to ease the tension, Finn extends his hand towards Bellamy, “You must be Bellamy.” After the taller boy nods and shakes his hand, he turns to Lexa with a smile. “And you must be Alexis. Clarke has told me a lot about you.”

Bellamy’s eyes widen slightly. He knew very well that Lexa didn’t like people messing up her name. This should be fun.

She stares and Finn’s extended hand like if it was a piece of dog shit before taking it. She grips it so tightly that he winces. “Actually, it’s Lexa. And you must be Fig.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Bellamy tries to hold in his laughter. He was well aware that Lexa knew Finn’s name. Hell, everyone knew his name. Ever since their first date, Clarke wouldn’t shut up about him. 

“My name is actually Finn, not Fig.” the shorter boy clears up while clenching his hand.

Lexa blinks. “That’s what I said.”

“No, you said F-“

“Clarke’s not done getting ready,” Bellamy interrupts. “So you’re going to have to wait inside.” It sounded more like a command than a suggestion, so Finn anxiously nods before following them into the living room.

He sits across from them as they continue their shameless eye judging.

Lexa doesn’t understand what Clarke sees in him. _He’s short and so simple looking. He probably writes gay ass poetry or something. He’s obviously weak, if he couldn’t take a firm handshake how is he supposed to protect Clarke?_

Beside her, Bellamy’s having the same train of thoughts.

Finn clears his throat, hoping they’re not about to murder him. “Those are some nice awards you have there.” he points towards the cabinet full of medals and trophies.

Bellamy nods, “Yeah, Lexa here is in mix martial arts and I’m in boxing, though most of those are hers. She’s been fighting since she was about 6. Right, Woods?”

Lexa nods, confirming his statement. “Mmhm, around the same time I met Clarke.”

“What about you Finn, do you play any sports?” the taller boy asks. Lexa has to stop herself from rolling her eyes. It was obvious to any one with eyes that Finn wasn’t an athletic person. He was thin and lacked muscle structure, so when he said yes, Lexa was surprised and suddenly curious.

“What do you play?” she asks.

“I play golf with my father and his colleagues on the weekends.”

She doesn’t suppress an eye roll this time.

“Dude, that’s not a sport.” Bellamy chuckles.

Finn gives Bellamy an offended look. “Oh, I disagree, Bellamy. It’s a sport. It involves a lot of skill.“

Bellamy snorts, “How?”

“Look, when you-“

As Bellamy and Finn start to idiotically debate on whether golf is a sport or not, Lexa’s mind takes her back to 15 years ago.

When she was diagnosed with I.E.D at the age of 6, Lexa's father signed her up to a mix martial arts gym, wanting her to be able to control her rage and anger without the use of pills. There she learned discipline of both the body and mind, and that’s what her father wanted. But she was still a child. So unfortunately, things still easily triggered her and knowing how to break bones and injure people was a dangerous plus.

Thanks to her disorder, Lexa continuously fought in school for silly reasons. Sometimes she’d break someone’s arm or someone’s nose. Seeing her lose herself when her mind wasn’t her own easily caused everyone at school to avoid her. No one wanted to be the friend of the kid who punched you if you accidentally stepped on her foot.

When she’d whine to her father about her lack of friends, he’d say, “You should be proud Alexandria. People being afraid of you is a good thing. You are a Woods. Woods are to be feared.” All she could do was listen to her father and learn to agree with him. Which she eventually did. She stopped caring whether she had friends or not. But regardless, it didn’t change the fact that she still felt fucking lonely when no one would eat lunch with her or push her on the swings during recess.

But then one day, a tiny blonde came along offering Lexa nothing but smiles and kindness.

Lexa didn’t like her.

She hated how annoying she was.  
She hated how question after question flew out of her.  
She hated how she always sat too close to her during lunch.  
She hated how soft her hand felt on hers.  
She hated how she always made her blush when she kissed her on the cheek.  
She hated how she was the only one that wasn’t afraid of her.  
And most of all,  
She hated how she couldn’t… hate her.

Lexa tried to hate her, she really did. But how could she hate someone that smiled when she frowned or laughed when she scowled? How could she hate someone that brought her an extra chocolate pudding during lunch because she knew she’d still be hungry after eating her own?

To hate the small blonde was impossible, so she gave up. She let the inevitable happen. (And if you were to ask her now, she’ll say that it was the best decision she ever made.)

Of course, Lexa’s disorder always shadowed her, but with Clarke, she’d forget that it even existed. Her rage occasionally made an appearance when she’d fall and scrape her knee or when an older kid pushed her. But when it showed up, Clarke’s tiny hand would hold her own and slowly her anger would subside.

Clarke was her anchor.

In elementary school, middle school, high school, and even now in college, Clarke grounded her. Even when Lexa couldn’t hold it off any longer and engaged in violence, Clarke was the only one capable of stopping her from gravely injuring herself or killing the other person. (Mostly the latter.) Sometimes it was as easy as whispering words of reassurance to the brunette, but sometimes it was harder and Clarke would find herself standing in front of a raging Lexa, stopping her from seriously injuring someone. Standing in front of a raging Lexa was something no one would ever dare do. But Clarke, she’d do it without a second thought. She knew Lexa would never hurt her, even when she saw red. If it wasn’t for Clarke, Lexa knows she’d probably be in jail or worse, dead. Thats’s why she loves her more than anything.

Bellamy’s argumentative words snap her back into reality. “But how is watching a ball go into a hole a sport? There’s no cardio or physicality to it!”

Finn opens his mouth, ready to respond when Lexa’s sharp voice halts him. “Finn Collins, listen very carefully to what I’m about to say. Can you do that?” He shakes his head yes. Bellamy, knowing what’s coming, wants to give him a sympathetic smile but refrains from doing so since he’s supposed to be hating him. Low-key, he actually kind of liked Finn. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy, of course he would never tell Lexa.

“I know nothing about you,” Lexa continues, “nothing at all, nor do I want to. But I do know one thing, and that’s that Clarke is practically head over heals for you. And honestly, I have no idea why she’s decided that she wants to be with you. Now, we can beat you to a pulp so that she never has to see you again.” He stiffens at her words but quickly relaxes when she continues. “But we’re not going to do that, because apparently Clarke has decided that you’re worth her time, even though I don’t think you are. I’ve known her my whole life Finn Collins, and I care about her more than anyone or anything in this shit world. So that being said,” she gets off of the couch, and in one fluid motion has the collar of Finn's shirt curled up in her fist. She brings his face towards hers, mere inches away and slowly bares her teeth before continuing in a growling whisper, “if you ever hurt Clarke, in any fucking way, I will tear you apart piece by piece. I will hurt you in ways you’ve never thought were possible. I will make sure you feel ten times the pain you caused her. And you see him over there,” she points towards an impassive looking Bellamy, and Finn rapidly nods. “He’ll take his turn after I’m done with you. Do you understand?”

He’s frozen on the spot but still manages to respond. “I-I-I like Clarke very much. I won’t hurt her, I promise.” he squeaks out.

Lexa grins as she lets go of his shirt and neatly fixes his collar. She gently pats him on the side of his arm, making him flinch like a cowering dog. “Good talk, buddy.”

As soon as Lexa sits back down, Clarke emerges from bathroom in a tight black dress. One that makes Lexa drool a little bit.

“Hey babe.” Lexa turns her head at the word of endearment but quickly ducks it when she realizes it’s not directed towards her.

Bellamy notices the swift flash of hurt that crosses his friends’s face and sighs. He just hopes that she’ll soon admit what she’s feeling, he doesn’t want to see her in pain.

Clarke pecks Finn on the mouth. “Sorry I took awhile. Are you read to go?” He nods furiously which makes Clarke furrow her brows in confusion and slight concern. “Are you okay babe? You look a little pale.” She puts the back of her hand on his forehead and fails to notice the way he makes eye contact with Lexa, who slightly lifts her chin, daring him to say something.

Clarke had already given her and Bellamy shit for scaring off previous boyfriends, so if she found out that Lexa practically death threatened Finn, well…. lets just say mean Clarke scared Lexa, though she would never admit it.

Finn just smiles nervously, trying to reassure the blonde. “Yup, I’m fine. We should go, we don’t want to be late for our reservation.” He gets up and grabs her hand, quickly leading her towards the door. But before they can leave, Clarke stops him.

“Go wait in the car will you? I forgot something in my room.” Smiling, he nods before gladly leaving.

As soon as he’s out the door, Clarke makes her way towards the two brunettes and pinches them both.

“Ouch! Clarke!” they yelp in unison.

“What did you do to him?” They don’t respond to her question, suddenly interested in the ceiling. “If you two morons don’t tell me right now, I swear I will stop cooking for an entire month!”

They snap there heads away from the ceiling to stare at each other, a silent question lingering in the air. _Food or loyalty?_ It’s an obvious answer to the both of them.

Lexa immediately points at Bellamy and Bellamy immediately points at Lexa.

“It was him!”

“She did it!”

Clarke only growls frustratingly before grabbing her purse and making her way out of the door. “I am the mother of two 21 year olds.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun(not really) fact: i was about 12 years old when i was  
> diagnosed with intermittent explosive disorder. have y'all  
> noticed that no one really talks about rage disorders?  
> anyways, next chapter ft's jealous!clarke.  
> again, if you guys have any ideas, i'm all ears and shit.  
> take care homies.  
> twitter @lexagriff
> 
> \- kay


	5. Family Reunion Pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shower sin.  
> also jealous!clarke and scared!lexa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is part 1 of 'family reunion,' enjoy!
> 
> -kay

It’s 7am when Lexa wakes up.

The brunette groans out a whine. She just wants to sink deeper into her pillows and sleep since it’s her day off. But unfortunately, her bladder has other plans.

Lexa makes a move to get up but a warm body prevents her from doing so. Harper, still asleep, is curled up next to her. The brunette gently starts to tap Harper’s forehead till she shifts, cracking one eye open.

“Hmmmm?” Harper grumbles.

“Get off of me so I can go pee.”

The blonde curls up next to Lexa even more, putting more pressure on the brunette’s already full bladder. “No. You’re too warm.”

“Harper, I will fucking pee on you.” Lexa warns as she begins to squirm.

Not wanting to get peed on, Harper reluctantly uncurls herself from Lexa, sleepily muttering her displeasure.

Whilst Lexa gets off the bed, Harper keeps her eye cracked open. She watches as Lexa makes her way towards the bathroom, stripping last night’s clothes off as she goes. When Lexa drops her boxers on the bathroom floor, Harper catches a glimpse of her bare ass before the bathroom door closes, and suddenly, she’s fully awake.

Feelings last night’s soreness in her muscles, Lexa rolls her neck and shoulders. She lets out a sigh of contentment as she gives herself one last squeeze and shake before turning on the shower.

Last night was a good night, even though it didn’t exactly do its job as a distraction. Not only did Clarke plague Lexa’s thoughts the night before, but the brunette’s dreams were infested with her too.

Usually, a couple of glasses of whiskey or a quick fuck easily worked as interference to block Clarke out of Lexa’s head, but recently, both the alcohol and the women have been miserably failing her. It was something that was starting to frustrate Lexa. Deciding she was going to try not to think about a certain blonde for the day, Lexa jumps into the shower, immediately feeling the warm water soothe her.

Moments pass as Lexa relaxes under the water’s pressure. She doesn’t hear the bathroom door open.

As Lexa starts to rub a bar of soap across her body, two arms unexpectedly wrap around her waist, making her jump slightly and drop the soap. Harper chuckles softly into Lexa’s shoulder blades. “Oops. You dropped the soap. You know what that means.”

The brunette rolls her eyes. “I thought you were going back to sleep, Harp.” Lexa quavers faintly when she feels one of Harper’s hands move below her waistline. “I was,” the blonde murmurs, slightly biting Lexa's shoulder. “But some things are more important than sleep.” Harper grasps Lexa’s flaccid dick and begins to stroke it slowly, earning a whimper in response. “Does that feel good, Lex?” When the brunette nods, Harper increases the pace on Lexa’s hardening organ. She hums when she feels Lexa tremble against her when she teases the sensitive head with her thumb.

“Shit, Harper,” Lexa mewls, losing herself in the feeling of nimble fingers quickly bringing her cock to its full attention.

When Lexa is hard enough for the blonde’s liking, Harper turns her around and pulls her in for a kiss, moaning when she feels Lexa’s hard dick slide against her stomach.

Lexa takes a hold of Harper’s hips as their tongues continue their incautious battle, and shoves her lightly till the blonde’s back is against the cold tiled wall. Lexa rolls her own hips against Harper’s, making the other girl groan into the kiss. “Are you going to fuck me or what? I have work in one hour. Tick tock, Lexa.”

Lexa growls. She hates being rushed, even when it comes to a quickie. The brunette roughly turns Harper around and nudges her so that the blonde's front is flush against the cold wall. She ignores the way the blonde hisses when her nipples come into contact with the cold tile. Lexa continues to suck on the side of Harper’s neck as she brings one hand to caress and tease the blonde’s lower lips. While she gets her fingers lubricated with warm slick heat, Lexa’s other hand absentmindedly strokes her cock.

Wanting to feel Harper around her fingers, Lexa instantly slides two inside of the blonde. “Oh fu-fuck!” Harper sputters out at the delicious intrusion.

Rolling her hips, the blonde pushes herself back onto Lexa’s fingers, easily fucking herself. Harper then cranes her neck to the side and watches as Lexa strokes her wet dick while she watches Harper fuck herself against her fingers.

When Lexa starts to feel Harper clench around her, she retracts her hand, smirking when she hears Harper groan in annoyance. “Lexa, stop fucking around.” Lexa ignores Harper and pushes herself so that her front is flush against the blonde’s wet back. She moans when her hard cock slides against the valley of Harper’s firm butt.

As Lexa digs her fingers in Harper’s hips, she slowly starts to grind against the girl’s wet ass. “Lexa,” Harper whines desperately, “Please. Please, I need you to-”

“You need me to what?” Lexa asks as she increases her humping pace. “Tell me what you need, Harper.”

“I need you to fuck me!”

Lexa easily complies. She grasps her slick shaft and brings it to the blonde’s entrance. She intertwines her fingers with Harper’s and puts their hands against the wall above them. Lexa bites the back of Harper’s shoulder before slamming her cock inside of the blonde’s heat, both groaning loudly at the heavenly feeling.

Lexa tightens her grip on the blonde's hands as she starts to pound into her.

After a moment, Lexa let’s go of Harper’s hands and grips her blonde hair instead, pulling every time she thrusts in and out of the girl’s lustrous heat.

Water running and hips slapping against each other followed by moans, are the only sounds that echo in the bathroom.

Lexa tangles her fingers in Harper’s hair and pulls harder as she begins to roll her hips so that the next couple of thrusts hit the blonde in the perfect place. “Fuck, Lexa!” Harper hollers. “Right there, don’t you dare stop!” Lexa doesn’t stop, instead she moves the hand that’s grasping Harper’s hip and uses it to pinch the blonde’s clit. “Oh my-! Lexa! I’m gonna cum!” Lexa hips begin to speed up as she continues to pinch and roll Harpers clit.

Harper moans loudly as her first orgasm courses though her.

Lexa doesn’t stop pumping her hips as the blonde cums. She vigorously continues to rub Harper’s clit, forcing her to come again until the blonde reaches down for Lexa’s wrist.

Turning her head, Harper captures Lexa’s mouth for a moment, kissing her sloppily in a mash of lips and tongue before she drops her head back against the tiled wall, clearly unenergized. Harper shudders at the sensitivity still coursing though her body as Lexa continues to fuck her relentlessly.

When Harper hears the ragged short pants of Lexa’s breath in her ear as she grips her hips and unstably ruts inside of her, the blonde knows that she must be close. So Harper does what she can to speed up the process. _I really wasn’t joking about having to go to work._ Harper starts clenching around Lexa’s cock tighter and begins to push back into each thrust as Lexa continues her rough unsteady pace.

“I can’t,” Lexa groans. “I’m gonna-“

Lexa stiffens for a second, biting the blonde’s shoulder painfully and Harper immediately feels the pulses and jets of cum releasing inside of her before dripping down her thighs. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Lexa moans out as she starts to slowly drive into Harper, letting her orgasm play out.

Once her high fades, Lexa lifts her head off of the blonde’s back as she pulls out. She then traces the bite marks she left on Harper’s shoulders. “Sorry,” she whispers sheepishly as she tries to catch her breath.

Harper turns around to face Lexa and grips her ass playfully before she pecks her on the nose. “It’s fine. It was kinda hot.”

Lexa laughs and shakes her head. “Of course it was. Now come on, lets actually use the shower for what it’s for.”

After they quickly shower and get dressed (Harper having to borrow one of the brunette’s shirts since Lexa shredded her’s last night), they both decide to make their way out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen for a quick breakfast.

 

-

 

Clarke pushes the button on elevator that leads towards Lexa’s loft as she holds on to the bag of pancakes and hash browns.

Before yesterday, Clarke and Lexa had somehow refrained from sleeping with each other for two whole months, solely because Finn was on vacation from work and was staying home. Even though last night was not supposed to happen, Clarke was glad it did. She missed the brunette. Even though they saw each other practically every day, it still wasn’t the same.

Clarke missed the intimacy. She missed Lexa’s soft kisses. She missed Lexa’s moans and whimpers. She missed Lexa’s hands softly tracing her stomach. Hell, Clarke even missed the brunette in ways that confused her, because suddenly it wasn’t just the sex she missed, there was more to it. Clarke missed her in ways that made her chest ache.

The elevator’s ding interrupts Clarke from her thoughts. She makes her way towards Lexa’s and takes out the spare key the brunette gave her.

Clarke knows that today is Lexa’s day off, so she was aware that the brunette was probably sleeping in. But still, Clarke wanted to surprise her with breakfast in bed (and maybe a little something else in bed) as an apology for last night.

With a smirk, Clarke unlocks the door and quietly makes her way inside Lexa’s loft. She heads towards the kitchen deciding to brew some coffee for the both of them.

As she starts to prepare everything for the coffee, Clarke hears the bedroom door open. She’s surprised the brunette is awake so early but smiles nonetheless when she hears Lexa laugh.

As footsteps get louder and closer, signaling to Clarke that Lexa’s making her way towards the kitchen, the blonde suddenly hears another laugh and a thump, followed by a moan.

Clarke freezes, almost dropping a mug as she does.

Clarke knows it’s not Lexa’s laugh she heard, so automatically she knows the brunette has a girl over. Knowing she should leave, Clarke grabs her purse, completely ignoring the mixture of anger and jealousy quelling inside of her and makes her way out. But as soon as Clarke is about to open the door and leave, the unknown voice moans out again. “Are you really going to fuck me in the hall, Lexa? I have work in thirty minutes!”

Clarke stops dead in her tracks.

She fucking knows that voice. Her jealousy spikes up tenfold as she tries to convince herself that it can’t be _her_ she just heard.

_Lexa doesn’t even know her, right?_

Clarke’s jealousy eventually wins out.

Putting her purse back on the counter, Clarke makes her way around the kitchen and towards the hall.

And fuck, she should’ve left.  
Her blood instantly boils when she sets sight on the two.

Lexa has Harper’s legs wrapped around her waist, pinning her against the guest room’s door. And while the brunette attacks Harper’s neck, the blonde slowly jerks her off under her shorts, using her other hand to keep Lexa’s head in place.

The irrational burn of jealousy flares even higher when Clarke notices the clothes Harper’s wearing. She has a pair of Lexa’s sweatpants on and one of the brunette’s shirts. Clarke almost growls when she regards the shirt as Lexa’s favorite.

_She doesn’t even let me wear it!_

And Clarke knows, she should’ve fucking left.

As her anger and jealousy become unrestrained, Clarke can’t help but burst.

“What the fuck!”

Harper and Lexa turn their heads at the sound of Clarke’s voice and Lexa immediately lets go of Harper, the girl barely manages to stay upright.

“Clarke…” Lexa makes her way towards Clarke but stops when she notices the harsh glare her favorite blonde is giving her. (If glares could kill, Lexa would be laying in a puddle of her own blood right now.)

“You’re fucking Harper, Lexa?” Clarke asks in an harsh-ominous whisper. The wide-eyed brunette opens her mouth to say something but immediately closes it, clearly panicking.

Harper has never seen Lexa so frightened before. But as amusing as it is for her to witness Lexa cower to the smaller woman, Harper decides to break the tension for Lexa’s sake and from the way Clarke looks like she’s about to explode, she decides for her sake too.

Harper moves to stand in front of Lexa, smiling at Clarke like she wasn’t just caught with her hand down Lexa’s shorts, and makes her way towards her. She wraps her arms around Clarke, feeling the younger blonde stiffen into the hug.

“Hey, baby cousin. It’s been awhile.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i bet y'all didn't see that coming. harper being clarke's cousin makes  
> this fic a bit more interesting, doesn't it? part 2 will most def have  
> some angst in it. i totally wanted to end the chapter in a cliffhanger  
> because i'm fucking evil lol. feel free to yell at me. anyways, if you  
> have any ideas for future chapters, i'm all ears and shit.  
> take care homies.  
> twitter @lexagriff
> 
> \- kay


	6. Just One Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> multi-flashback chapter, enjoy!
> 
> \- kay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> authors note in the beginning.

Little short ass authors-note: Follow me on Twitter @lexagriff, say hi or some lame shit like that.

Holy fucking shit, the feedback for chapter 5 was a lil insane lol. Both the positive and negative feedback was welcomed with open arms. I appreciated any type of feedback.

I want to remind the people that are pissed off that I wrote Clarke in as a cheater, I did warn you at the very beginning of this fic and if you decide to stop reading, it’s totally fine, we all read what we like. Anyways, Lexa’s and Clarke’s actions illicit different reactions, I am totally aware of that. But you guys have to know that I am not bias when it comes to these two. So if any of you are one sided in this fic, you have to remember that I am not. Also, Lexa and Clarke are adults, they decide things on their own and sometimes those things have consequences. Please, keep that in mind when reading. Try to remember there is no blame game here.

Now on to some of the stuff you guys asked me to clear up on twitter:

\- Clarke and Lexa stopped having sex as soon as Finn asked Clarke to be his girlfriend  
\- Their friends with benefits relationship started their senior year of high school and ended their junior year of college when Finn officially asked Clarke out.  
\- Clarke and Lexa’s present age is 27  
\- Lexa is a lawyer, Clarke is a first year resident.  
\- Lincoln is Lexa’s brother and Anya is Lexa’s sister.  
\- Currently, Clarke and Lexa are friends with benefits. (It’s been this way for about a year, this chapter should explain.)  
\- I am gonna try and introduce more oc’s as it goes on.

Happy reading and don’t get too mad (;

 

 

_2 Years Ago_

  
“Is this why you called me over, Raven? I already told you, the answer is no,” Clarke grumbles as she sits down on her friends’ couch. “No bachelorette party!"

Raven opens her mouth to respond but Clarke quickly shuts her down with her unwavering attitude. “No Raven! The wedding is literally three days away and I am already anxious enough as it is, I don’t need to be worrying about anyone showing up to my wedding hungover.”

Raven whines like a spoiled child and plops herself on top of Clarke’s lap, wrapping her arms around the blonde’s neck. “Please, Clarkey. Please, please, please! You’ve been so busy with medical school and with all of your wedding planning shit that we haven’t hung out that much.”

Clarke’s face slightly morphs into one of guilt, knowing the shorter girl’s right.

During her junior and senior year of college, Clarke decided to take supplementary classes that were involved with her pre med course. Even during the summer, Clarke used all of her free time to take on those extra classes. In the end, Clarke’s hard work and intellectuality obviously payed off. After graduating from Polis University, Clarke was given the opportunity to skip the first year of medical school, known as the “research year,” and was able to start as a second year medical student. Even though medical school demanded a lot of Clarke’s time when she first started, the blonde was still able to squeeze in some time for her friends. But now that Clarke was only a few weeks away from graduating medical school and starting her internship at Ark Medical, she had exactly no free time for her friends and if she was able to find some, it was all dedicated towards the planning of her wedding.

_Fucking wedding planning._

Finn proposed to Clarke a year ago and of course Clarke said yes. They both decided to have their wedding set for the day he proposed, which was three days from now. Clarke started to plan her wedding about six months ago and if it weren’t for the help of her wonderful mother and mother in law, Clarke probably would’ve had to postpone the wedding since school’s been sucking the life and time out of her.

Raven gives Clarke a slight pout, knowing it’ll knack at the blonde’s already guilty heart. “Please, for me? I’ve missed our time together. We all have!”

Clarke sighs and shakes her head, knowing she’s already lost her fight. “Oh my god. Fine! Way to make me feel like a great friend. ”

Raven cups Clarke’s cheeks and gives her a wet kiss on the nose, making the blonde cringe. “Yes! I love you! We’re gonna have so much fun!” With an amused smile, Clarke watches as the brunette struggles to get off her lap, falling to the ground in the process. After an intense amount of seconds later, the brunette finally manages to get up. She sits down next to Clarke and excitedly takes out her phone. “I’m gonna call O so we can set everything up. Do you think she’s awake?”

“I don’t see why not. It’s already passed noon.”

As Raven starts to dial Octavia’s number, a redhead with disheveled clothes and heels in her hand walks out of Lexa’s room, making both girls look up. The redhead stops when she spots the two, looking slightly embarrassed and lost. Being used to this particular routine, Raven points to the door while she turns her attention back to her phone. “Exit’s over there honey.” The redhead mumbles her thanks before walking out of the apartment, almost crashing into Octavia as she leaves.

Raven and Lexa quickly adapted to each others habits after they decided to get an apartment and move in together. Lexa got used to Raven setting off the fire alarm every time she was busy with her projects and Raven got used to Lexa coming home late on the weekends.

“Wassup, bitches!” Octavia walks into the living room and lets herself drop on the couch, sitting on the other side of Clarke.

“Hey, O!” Raven greets. “I was just about to call you. Clarke’s letting us throw her a bachelorette party!”

Octavia’s eyes widen. “What? No way! Really, Clarke?”

Ignoring Octavia’s question, Clarke keeps her gaze locked on Lexa’s door. “It’s Wednesday,” she murmurs.

Octavia and Raven look at each other, confusion etched on their faces. “Wow, Clarke. Medical school has really turned you into a super genius. You can state the obvious now.”

Clarke smacks Octavia in the arm. “That’s not what I meant you ass,” she looks back at Lexa’s door before continuing. “Lexa had a one night stand and it’s a Wednesday. It’s just weird.”

Everyone was well aware that Lexa had a ‘no girls’ policy during school days since she liked to focus solely on school. So obviously, something wasn’t right.

Raven snorts while she continues to mess with her phone. “Weird? She’s been having a new girl over since Saturday, after your lame ass pre-wedding party.”

Clarke shoves Raven hard, almost making the girl fall off the couch. “Why didn’t you tell me Rae!”

“Clarke, shove me again and see if I don’t go Bruce Lee on your ass,” the brunette grumbles as she rubs her arm. “And I did tell you! In fact, I complained the entire time we were there. Like first of all, it wasn’t even a party, it was just dinner with all your nerdy ass friends from med school. Second of all, it-“

“Raven, shut up! I’m not talking about the wedding party, I’m talking about Lexa. I think something’s wrong with her.” Clarke starts to bite her lip anxiously. “You guys know she doesn’t fool around on school days. She only does when something is going on with her… Has she gotten into any fights, Raven?”

The slight guilt Clarke was feeling before was now eating at her. She shouldn’t have to ask these things, Lexa is her best friend after all. But since the year started, Clarke hasn’t been able to see Lexa as much as she would’ve liked. The last time she saw Lexa was during her pre-wedding party, but even then, she wasn’t able to spend much time with Lexa since she had to play host.

Clarke’s knows she might be overreacting, but she can’t help it when this little action of difference from Lexa makes her anxiety increase and takes her back to the first time when Lexa had a major shut down.

It was right after Mrs. Woods, Lexa’s mom, died during their junior year of high school. At first, Lexa wasn’t as shut off, there was no reason for any of her friends to think she was derailing. But then, there were the inconspicuous signs. It began with Lexa skipping school and having major arguments with her dad. Of course, it didn’t surprise or concern anyone, they all thought it was Lexa’s way of grieving. But then the signs became more prominent. She would no longer argue with her dad because she was never home. She started sleeping with random girls from school instead of actually going to school. She would easily lose control of herself, fighting anyone who would even look at her the wrong way and soon enough, seeing Lexa sporting a black eye or bruised knuckles became an everyday occurrence for Clarke. That year was one of Clarke’s hardest. She did everything in her power to get her best friend back. And even though Lexa didn’t want help, Clarke never gave up.

In the end, Lexa came back to Clarke. But since then, any time Lexa shows any type of strange behavior, like now, Clarke becomes alert, thinking it’s a _sign_. Most of the time, it’s just Clarke’s paranoia overreacting. But thanks to that awful year they all went through, Clarke can’t help but worry each time Lexa shows a bit of distress. _What if this is a sign? What if this time it’s happening again?_

“Nope, she hasn’t gotten into any fights,” Raven answers, interrupting Clarke from her thoughts.

“You should go talk to her, Clarke.” Octavia suggests, sensing the blonde’s worry. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m gonna go talk to her.” Both brunettes watch as Clarke gets up from the couch and makes her way down the hall towards Lexa’s room.

As soon as the blonde is out of ear shot, Octavia turns to Raven. “What do you think it was? Do you think Finn said something to Lexa? Because she seemed fine before.”

Raven shakes her head. “No, he didn’t say anything to her. I think Lexa just realized that the wedding is closer than she expected and is actually happening.”

 -

Lexa’s comfortably lying on her messy bed, one leg dangling down the mattress.

She’s staring blankly at the ceiling fan, trailing her fingertips absently over her abs when she hears the door to her room open. She turns and her lips automatically curl up into a wide smile. “Oh man, Clarke Griffin is actually gracing me with her presence,” Lexa jokes as she props herself up on her elbows.

Clarke easily returns the wide smile and lightly punches Lexa as she lays down next to her. “Hush, don’t be so rude.”

“Me, rude?” Lexa scoffs sarcastically. She wraps her arms around the blonde, cuddling her from behind. “Missed you, blondie.”

“I missed you too.”

They stay in that position for a long moment.

Clarke’s enjoying the warmth coming from the brunette so much that she nearly forgets why she came into Lexa’s room in the first place.

“So,” Clarke clears her throat, trying to act nonchalant. “A girl on a Wednesday, huh?” Lexa stiffens behind her and Clarke knows her plan to act nonchalant has failed. She always forgets that Lexa can read her like an open book. _Shit._

“Yeah, so?” Lexa snaps defensively. She unwraps her arms from the blonde and lays on her back, returning her gaze to the ceiling fan.

Clarke turns her body around so that she can properly face Lexa and starts playing with the brunette’s tank top. “Just an observation Lex. Don’t have to get all grumpy.” Clarke watches as Lexa continues to stare at the ceiling fan, avoiding eye contact with her. _Yup, something’s definitely wrong._

“Hey,” Clarke whispers, lightly tapping Lexa on the chest so that she can look at her. “Tell me…What’s going in that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” Lexa sighs and Clarke gives her a pointed look. “I’m not going bad again Clarke, I promise. It’s just… school stuff I guess? I’m just a little stressed, that’s all.”

Clarke can easily read Lexa like an open book too.

Clarke bites her bottom lip, she knows Lexa’s not telling her the truth. But if Lexa’s sure she’s not going bad again, all Clarke can do is give it a rest and wait for Lexa to tell her what’s bothering her.

“This school year is almost over, then you’ll only have one more to go and you’ll be done. So don’t stress too much.” Clarke continues to play with Lexa’s tank top. “Just… no fighting, okay? It’s been months since you’ve gone over _that_ particular edge, I just want you safe.”

A few months ago, Lexa was involved in what she considers a small altercation (if you were to ask Clarke, Lexa gaining three broken ribs was not a small altercation), one that totally freaked Clarke out.

Usually, Lexa doesn't care when people worry about her. But when Clarke does, Lexa can’t help but want to reassure her. “Alright, no fighting. For you,” she murmurs before kissing the blonde on the forehead. Clarke sighs happily, content with Lexa’s answer.

The blonde notices a box of condoms on the floor and she can’t help but question Lexa about safety. She was the mom friend after all. “And you’re being safe right?”

Lexa cocks her hear to the side in confusion, so Clarke clarifies. “Like with these girls, I mean.”

Lexa rolls her eyes. “Yes, mom. I always am.”

Clarke scoffs. “You barely wore a condom when we fucked, Lexa. Don’t lie.”

“Hey! Whose fault was that? I was always prepared. You were the one who went on the pill because you didn’t like it when I wore one.” Lexa narrows her eyes at the blonde before smirking. “Admit it Clarke, you liked my raw meat way more than you liked sushi.”

Clarke smacks Lexa on the forehead. “You’re disgusting! Take it back-” she straddles the now laughing brunette -“now!”

“Nope,” Lexa says with a smug grin. “You’re just gonna have to make me.”

Clarke eyes the brunette’s ribs with a mischievous smile. “Oh, yeah? I guess I will.” She rapidly darts both of her arms out, ready to assault Lexa’s ribs with her fingers. But the brunette is faster.

Lexa’s hands shoot up, locking themselves around Clarke’s wrist before the blonde can even get close to her stomach and swiftly, Lexa flips them over. “Nice try slow poke,” the brunette snorts.

“Totally not fair,” Clarke huffs in annoyance. “You have like 500 years of reflex training.”

“My training has nothing to do with this. You’re just slow.”

“Ugh, fuck you.”

“But you’re engaged, Clarke.”

“Oh my god, shut up. You know that’s not what I meant.” Clarke tries to sit up but fails since Lexa’s still straddling her. “Lexa move, you’re too heavy.”

“I apologize.” Lexa says, clearly unapologetic. The brunette makes no move to get up and instead smiles wickedly, making Clarke eye her suspiciously. “Oh no, I think I’m gonna pass out, Clarke.” Lexa garbles dramatically, feigning drowsiness as she starts to slump forward.

Clarke’s eyes widen. “Lexa you better no-!” her words are cut off by Lexa’s body as the brunette lets herself fall completely on top of her. “Lexaaaaaaa,” Clarke whines. “Get off!”

“Make me,” Lexa challenges with a laugh, a laugh that quickly turns into a loud hiss as Clarke sinks her teeth into her boob.

Lexa abruptly jumps off Clarke, making herself fall off the bed. Groaning on the floor, Lexa rubs both her head and her nipple. “Did you just bite my boob, Clarke?”

Clarke looks down at the brunette from the edge of bed as she laughs. “You said ‘ _make me_ ’ so I did.”

“Jesus, you’re like a fucking shark, Clarke. I think I’m bleeding.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, she forgets that Lexa can be so extra sometimes. “Stop being so dramatic Lexa, it was just a nick.”

“A nick?” Lexa scoffs incredulously. “Clarke, I thought you bit my entire boob off.”

“Oh my god, Le-”

Raven bursts into the room, faintly startling both girls. The brunette gazes down at Lexa who’s lying on the floor rubbing her boob and then at a smiling Clarke. Raven quirks her eyebrows in confusion and opens her mouth to ask, but closes it rapidly as she shakes her head. _I don’t even want to know._

“After you guys are done gaying around in here, I need you-“ she points to the blonde with her finger -“to come into the living room. Octavia and I are looking for places to have your party at and we need your input.”

Clarke sighs deeply “I’ll be right there.” Satisfied, Raven makes her way out of the room, but not before mumbling a _hurry your gay ass up_.

Lexa gets up from the floor and makes her way towards her dresser, still rubbing her boob. “What party?” she asks curiously.

“Oh right, Raven guilt tripped me into letting her and Octavia throw me a bachelorette party,” Clarke says as she watches the brunette put on some basketball shorts, totally _not_ appreciating how hot her ass looks in superman boxers. “They want us to have some fun before the wedding, us, meaning them.”

If Clarke noticed the way Lexa momentarily went stiff when she mentioned the wedding, she doesn’t show it.

“Holy shit, you’re actually getting married in like, three days.” Lexa sits down next to Clarke on the bed. “You really love him?”

Clarke gives Lexa a broad smile before answering. “I do. I really do love him.”

Lexa wants to put a wall. _It’s just a crush._ Lexa wishes she could tell Clarke the real reason why she’s been feeling down. But Lexa knows she can’t, she can’t because of Clarke’s wide and happy smile when she mentions Finn. _It’s just a crush, Lexa… A long ass, deep ass, crush._

Ignoring the stinging ache in her chest, Lexa stands and smiles at Clarke before grabbing her by the hand to pull her up. “Come on, let’s go out there before Raven barges in again.”

As they enter the living room, they find the two brunette's in a heated argument.

“Raven five is too many! Two is enough!” Octavia looks like she's ready to punch Raven in the face.

“For the love of god, O! Five is like the perfect amount! Trust me, I’m practically a scientist.”

“Perfect amount of what?” Lexa questions as she lays down on the couch, resting her head on top of Raven’s lap.

“Strippers,” Raven chides excitedly while she runs a hand through Lexa’s hair.

“Wha-what!” Clarke exclaims, her mouth hanging wide open. “Why on earth do we need five strippers?”

Raven gives Clarke an incredulous look. “For the party, duh!”

“No no no. No way, Raven. Five strippers is way too many.”

“I don’t know Clarke,” Lexa pipes in with an excited grin. “Five strippers sounds like a good amount to me.”

Raven squeezes Lexa's cheek in appreciation and Clarke groans.

“Of course it does, Lexa.” 

-

  
After hours and hours of Raven begging, Abby had finally relented and decided to let the girls borrow her house for their little bachelorette party, but not before warning them about drinking too much before the wedding, she didn’t want Clarke and her bridesmaids to be throwing up during the church service.

Of course, the girls agreed not to drink so much. And of course, the only who listened was Clarke.

Clarke’s wandering around her mom’s almost-empty house as she looks for Lexa. The party was already at its end. Games had already been played, the alcohol had already ran out, the strippers were no longer stripping and the people were already leaving.

As Clarke makes her way into the kitchen, she spots a slightly drunk Raven and Octavia shamelessly flirting with one of the strippers. She makes her way over and playfully nudges Raven with her shoulder. “Hey guys.”

“Clarkey!” Both girls yell out in unison, making Clarke laugh. “Where have you been?”

“I’ve been looking for Lexa, but I can’t find her.” Clarke moves behind the kitchen counter to find some bottles of water. “Have you guys seen her?”

“Last time I saw her she was with Bellamy in the living room. I think they were trying to see who could drink the most amount of vodka without passing out.”

“Bellamy?” Clarke asks surprised. She hands both of the brunette’s a bottle of water, giving them a stern look that says _drink_. “What is he doing here?”

“Lexa snuck him in before the strippers arrived,” Octavia says before she starts laughing. “You guys, the look on their faces when the hunks arrived will forever be my favorite thing.” Clarke chuckles, remembering Lexa’s horrified face when all the strippers had arrived. Apparently all of the female strippers were booked, so the only ones Raven could get were male strippers. Of course, Clarke’s bisexual ass wasn’t complaining, the only problem was that they forgot to tell Lexa.

“Alright, I’m gonna go make sure those two morons don’t die from alcohol poisoning. Make sure you two drink another bottle of water after that one,” Clarke notes, earning two _yes mom_ ’s in return.

Clarke makes her way towards the living room where she finds the other two brunettes.

Bellamy, clearly passed out, is completely leaning against Lexa while the brunette mumbles along to the song playing in the background, sloppily swaying her head to the beat.

“Fucking adorable,” Clarke mumbles with a smile as she makes her way towards them.

“Hey!” Lexa hisses when Clarke starts to nudge Bellamy. “Do _not_ wake him up! Can’t you see he’s asleep!”

Clarke bites back a laugh. She forgot Lexa’s protectiveness over Bellamy was something drunk Lexa was very keen of. It was also something sober Lexa would never think of admitting or expressing.

“Lexa, I need to wake him up so that he can drink some water. Then I’ll let him sleep, alright?” Lexa ponders for a moment and then nods.

Clarke tries to wake Bellamy up again. She repeatedly nudges him and calls out his name, but he doesn’t budge. Clarke lets out a frustrated groan, one that drunk Lexa notices. The brunette slightly shoves Clarke out of the way and maneuvers herself so that half of her body is facing Bellamy. Lexa then grips Bellamy’s chin, lifting it slightly, while she pulls back her other hand.

Clarke, confused as fuck, can’t help but question the brunette. “Lexa, what are y-?”

_SMACK!_

Bellamy bolts right up and off the couch as Lexa leans back on the couch and nods smugly, proud that her slap did it’s job.

“What- what happened?” Bellamy demands, swaying on his feet as he frantically looks around.

Clarke’s jaw is still on the ground. She notices Lexa hand print on Bellamy’s now purple cheek. _They are going to give me a heart attack one of these days._

“Clarke said that you’re a little bitch and that you can’t handle your alcohol, so you need to go drink some water.”

Bellamy whips his head around, almost falling in the process, and looks at Clarke. “You said that?” he all but whimpers. Lexa snickers in the background and Clarke shoots her a glare, one that quickly shuts her up.

“No, she’s lying Bell,” Clarke says as she runs a soothing hand on his back, knowing he can get a little sensitive when he’s drunk. “But I do need you to go drink some water. Can you go do that for me or do you need me to take you?”

“I can do it myself Clarke, I’m not a baby.”

“Alright, alright. Go ahead then, you big big man.” Bellamy puffs his chest out at the compliment and drunkly saunters towards the kitchen, crashing into a lamp as he goes.

Once Clarke sees that Bellamy has safely made it into the kitchen, she turns to Lexa. _One down, one more drunky to go._

Lexa grins that drunk grin of hers when she sets sight on Clarke, making the blonde shake her head as she scolds her. “Didn’t I specifically tell you not to drink too much, Lexa?”

The brunette’s drunk grin only widens. “You sure did,” she slurs. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“I did it anyway.”

“Alright you dangerous rebel,“ Clarke remarks, extending a helping hand towards Lexa. “Let’s go get you some water.”

Lexa takes a hold of Clarke’s hand but instead of pulling herself up, she pulls Clarke towards her, making the blonde fall into her arms with a yelp.

“Lexa,” Clarke groans, feeling the brunette tighten her arms around her as she brings her in for a bone crushing hug.

“Happy Birthday Clarke.”

“It’s not my birthday, it’s my bachelorette party, Lexa.”

“Shut up Clarke, must you always be so complicated?” Lexa grumbles, making the blonde roll her eyes.

“Hey, Clarke,” Lexa whispers after a moment. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Sure.”

“It’s top secret, though.”

“Tell me,” Clarke mutters as she plays along. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“I love you.”

Clarke rolls her eyes again, not grasping the real meaning behind the three words. “I know, I love you too. Now let me go, will you? I kinda can’t breath.”

Lexa doesn’t let her go, instead she nuzzles her face into the blonde’s neck. “Don’t marry him, Clarke.” she slurs out in a tiny whisper, one that Clarke barely manages to catch. “If you marry him, I think it’ll crack, Clarke.”

“It’ll crack? What?” Clarke chuckles into the brunette’s shoulder, drunk Lexa was always confusing. “What do you mean?” The brunette doesn’t answer. “Lexa, what do you mean?” When Lexa doesn’t answer again, Clarke tries to escape from her embrace, easily managing. She then looks up towards Lexa and finds her fast asleep.

Clarke gets up from the couch and extends Lexa out so that she’s properly laying down.

She smiles down at the sleeping brunette and kisses her on the cheek. “Goodnight, drunky.”

-

The next morning, Lexa wakes up with no recollection of her drunken conversation with Clarke.

And amidst all the wedding chaos, Clarke forgets Lexa’s drunken words.

-

_I think it’ll crack, Clarke._

Lexa watches as Clarke says, " _I_ _do,"_ to Finn. And true to her drunken word, Lexa’s heart cracks.

-

  
_One Year Later_

Lexa curses as the pounding on her door increases.

The brunette glances at her alarm clock. 3:34 am. _God dammit, I have work in 3 hours_.

Growling, Lexa gets up, angrily throwing the covers off her body and makes her way towards the door. Whoever the hell was interrupting her much needed sleep was about to get a face full of fist.

Without looking through the peephole, Lexa bursts the door open, making it slam against the wall.

“Who the-!“

Lexa stops mid growl when she notices her favorite blonde sitting in the hall with her head tucked in between her knees. “Clarke?”

When Clarke doesn’t answer, Lexa immediately kneels in front of her and places a hand on one of her knees. “Hey, are you drunk Clarke?”

Anya’s bar was 5 minutes away from Lexa’s new place and when any of Lexa’s friends drank too much, they all came to her apartment. Lexa has never minded, but Clarke rarely drank these days and plus, it was a Tuesday.

When Clarke doesn’t respond again, Lexa starts to get worried. She nudges Clarke’s knee a bit. “Hey beautiful,” she whispers softly. “Can you look at me?” Slowly, the blonde looks up and the brunette inhales sharply. Clarke’s face is flushed and her eyes are red and tear-dimmed. It’s clear to Lexa that her best friend has been crying for a long time.

“Lexa,” Clarke whimpers and without needing to think twice, Lexa immediately hoists the blonde up and carries her inside her apartment.

Lexa clenches her jaw and swallows roughly when she feels Clarke latch on to her tightly while she sobs against her chest. Seeing Clarke this way makes Lexa want to tremble with rage, but right now Lexa knows that Clarke doesn’t need her demons.

Lexa gently sets the blonde down on the couch and kneels in front of her, gently cupping her face with her hands. “Clarke, what happened?” She starts to stroke the blonde’s cheek with her thumb, wiping away her tears as she patiently waits for an answer.

After she takes in a few shaky breaths, Clarke finally responds. “Finn, he-.”

At the mention of Clarke’s husband, Lexa immediately stands up. “Finn,” she growls. “What the did he do Clarke?”

Clarke notices the way Lexa starts to absentmindedly tap her fingers against the side of her thighs in a rapid manner. Clarke knows that Lexa does this out of habit, knowing that if her fingers curled up into fist, she would lose control.

Clarke shakes her head and grabs Lexa’s hand, willing it to stop it’s tapping. “Lexa, don’t,” she pleads softly, knowing the brunette is already thinking of what to do to Finn.

Lexa yanks her hand away from Clarke and roughly starts to shake her head. “No, Clarke. You need to tell me what he did, now,” she demands. “Did he hurt you? Did he fucking put his hands on you? Clarke I swear to god if-!“

“He cheated on me, Lexa!” Clarke yells. “He fucking cheated on me!” Putting her face in her hands, Clarke allows the sobs to take over again.

Lexa is immediately at her side. Her anger and rage long forgotten as she takes Clarke into her arms.

Clarke had just finished a 48 hour shift at the hospital when she came home. She had informed Finn that she was going to stay the night in one of the on call rooms since her shift was to start early the next morning, but luckily for her, one of the other interns decided to take her morning shift. So as soon as she could, Clarke made her way home. When Clarke first walked into her house, she immediately knew something was off. Then she noticed a pair of high heels that didn’t belong to her, right next to Finn’s working boots, and she just knew.

When Clarke made her way upstairs, passing scattered clothes as she went, _she didn’t cry._ When Clarke opened the door to her bedroom and found a woman riding her husband, _she didn’t cry._ Even when Finn chased after her in the driveway, begging for forgiveness, _she didn’t cry_.

But as soon as Clarke made her way towards Lexa’s, she couldn’t help but crumble.

“Shh, it’s gonna be okay Clarke. I’m right here.” Lexa murmurs softly into Clarke’s ear while she clings on to her tightly.

“It just hurts so much, Lexa. It hurts so fucking much. I loved him.”

Lexa only tightens her arms around her best friend as she cries.

_I’m gonna kill him._  
_I’m gonna kill him._  
_I’m gonna kill him._  
_I’m gonna kill him._

After what feels like hours, Clarke’s sobs finally subside. Lexa decides to take the blonde to bed since she clearly needs some rest. She puts one arm around Clarke’s neck and the other around her knees, and lifts her up.

Once inside her bedroom, Lexa gently lowers Clarke down on the mattress. As soon as Clarke’s back hits the bed, the blonde grabs Lexa by the shirt and pulls her in, making the brunette fall in between her thighs. Lexa looks down and Clarke questioningly and before the brunette can say anything, Clarke puts both of her hands behind Lexa’s neck and brings her in for a bruising kiss. Lexa starts to get lost in the kiss but quickly comes to her senses.

Backing away from the kiss, Lexa grabs both of Clarke’s hands and pulls them away from her neck. “Clarke, what are you doing?”

“It’s okay, Lex.” Clarke starts to tug at Lexa’s shirt, trying to pull it over her head but Lexa grabs her hands again. “Clarke, stop. You’re not okay right now. We can’t do this.”

The blonde licks her lips before running a hand through her face. “I don’t want to feel what I’m feeling right now, Lexa.” Clarke grabs one of Lexa’s hands and directs it towards the hem of her shirt. “Please, Lexa. I need this right now,” Clarke practically begs. “I know what I’m doing, just- please. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

Lexa looks down at Clarke and she knows she shouldn’t do it. She knows she shouldn’t do it because it’s taken her a year to get over Clarke and Lexa knows that going down that road again might just cause her to fall into another hole.

But her stubbornness and pride resounds loud and clear around her thoughts.

_It’s just one time Lexa, you’re not weak, you won’t fall for her again. You know you want this too. Just for tonight._

_Just one time._

Fuck.

She lifts Clarke’s shirt over her head. _Just one time._ She drags both of her hands towards the waistband of Clarke’s scrubs and removes them, along with her panties. _Just one time._ She lets Clarke remove her shirt and her boxers. _Just one time._ She reaches towards her bedside and grabs a foil packet from the cabinet. _Just one time._ She looks at Clarke one more time, still slightly unsure but Clarke only puts a hand behind her neck and murmurs. “Please, just make me forget.” _Just. One. Time._

And so Lexa does, she makes Clarke forget.

Even a week later, after Clarke decides to give Finn a second chance and goes back to Lexa’s for the fourth night that week,-

_“I haven’t forgiven him yet, Lexa. But I’m willing to give him a second chance._  
_I want to try and fix what me and him have… had, because I know that’s not who he is._  
_But right now, I’m not ready to do just that. So if you’re willing… Just one more time.”_

-Lexa makes Clarke forget

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> work has been busting my balls. i hope this chapter wasn't as sloppy as i thought it was.  
> the cheat-ed became the cheat-er, "how the turntables" lol.  
> anyways, part 2 of 'family reunion' is up next so prepare yourselves.  
> feedback and ideas are always welcomed.  
> take care homies.
> 
> \- kay


	7. Family Reunion Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> confused!lexa, angry!clarke,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> low-key i almost forgot to post this today.  
> shoutout to homie on twitter who dm'd me and reminded me lmao.

_“You’re fucking Harper, Lexa?” Clarke asks in an harsh-ominous whisper. The wide-eyed brunette opens her mouth to say something but immediately closes it, clearly panicking._

_Harper has never seen Lexa so frightened before. But as amusing as it is for her to witness Lexa cower to the smaller woman, Harper decides to break the tension for Lexa’s sake and from the way Clarke looks like she’s about to explode, she decides for her sake too._

_Harper moves to stand in front of Lexa, smiling at Clarke like she wasn’t just caught with her hand down Lexa’s shorts, and makes her way towards her. She wraps her arms around Clarke, feeling the younger blonde stiffen into the hug._

_“Hey, baby cousin. It’s been awhile.”_

-

Clarke purses her lips, stiffening when Harper's arms warp around her. It takes all of Clarke’s will power not to just push her older cousin off and punch her across the face. But instead Clarke inhales deeply, remembering that Harper has no idea what’s going on (or so she thinks) and forces a small smile on her face as her older cousin breaks the hug.

“It has been a while,” Clarke agrees, tightly. “It’s very… _nice_ to see you Harper.” Clarke turns to Lexa, but avoids her worried eyes. “I just came over to bring Lexa some breakfast, but I should leave since I was clearly interrupting something.”

Unknowingly for Clarke, Harper smells right through her bullshit but just chuckles softly. “Nonsense, Clarke. I was actually on my way out, I have to be at the hospital in less than thirty minutes. You guys go ahead and have your breakfast.” Clarke nods rigidly as Harper grabs her purse from the couch and makes her way towards the door. “And say hello to Aunt Abby for me, okay?”

As Harper’s clutches the door knob, a lightbulb goes off in her head. _Show Lexa how much Clarke cares._

Harper, with a brash smile planted on her face, backs up and makes her way towards Lexa. The brunette’s eyes widen, knowing exactly what Harper’s thinking, but before Lexa can even react, Harper seizes the back of her neck and brings her in for a wet sloppy kiss.

Clarke watches the exchange happen and forces her feet to stay where they’re at, wanting nothing more than to grab Harper by the hair and drag her out of the loft.

“Don’t forget that you owe me a new shirt, Lexa,” Harper says provocatively as she pulls away from the brunette.

Satisfied with her work, Harper backs away and begins her retreat out of the door. She grins to herself when she notices how Clarke’s hands have now gone white from how tight she’s clenching them. _Mission accomplished._

Clarke keeps her eyes on Harper as she leaves and as soon as the door clicks shut, she turns and faces Lexa, darkest look in place.

Lexa can only descry as Clarke furiously advances towards her. “Clarke, I swear to you, I didn’t know.” Lexa quickly spots Clarke’s curled up fist and thanks to her many years of extensive training, Lexa knows what’s about to happen, but rather than stop it like her mind yells at her to, she lets it transpire, knowing Clarke must be somewhat mad at her. The blonde draws her clenched fist back before colliding it into the brunette’s face. Lexa easily takes it with a small grunt.

“How long?” Clarke hisses, restraining herself from soothing her burning knuckles.

Deep down, Clarke knows she can’t be mad at Lexa, especially if Lexa had no idea who Harper was, but Clarke can’t help it. The jealousy and rage she was feeling before only increased when she saw Harper practically tongue fuck Lexa in the mouth. Clarke can’t seem to even care about how unfair and prejudice she’s acting and feeling, not when there’s fury, possessiveness, and sense of betrayal overwhelming her.

“Does it really matter how long, Clarke?” Lexa questions, slightly irritated that she got socked in the face for no real reason.

If Clarke would’ve been someone else, she would’ve been lying on the ground by now.

The brunette uses the back of her hand to wipe the blood that’s trickling out of her now busted lip. She knows Clarke’s upset, but why she’s this upset is beyond her. Lexa had no idea Harper was Clarke’s cousin, Harper never mentioned it and Lexa had no reason to ask, Lexa just saw her as another woman. And of course, Clarke was well aware that Lexa slept with other women, so Lexa doesn’t understand why this is any different. If anything, Lexa’s feeling more annoyed than remorseful, given the fact that Clarke has exactly no right to be angry.

“How. Long.” Clarke seethes, and Lexa sighs in defeat. “About a year, Clarke.”

Clarke shuts her eyes for a moment and inhales deeply as she takes in Lexa’s answer. _About a year._ Clarke feels sick to her stomach now and it’s not making her feel any better when she senselessly starts picturing Lexa fucking her cousin over and over again.

 _A fucking year._ Clarke’s so tempted to strike Lexa across the face again, especially when Lexa’s face is expressing nothing but impassiveness, but instead Clarke chooses to leave. She moves past Lexa, shoulder checking her in the process and makes her way towards the kitchen.

Lexa trails behind her and watches as the seething blonde roughly grabs her purse and keys from the counter and makes her way towards the door.

Oblivious to why Clarke is acting this way, Lexa can’t help but get more confused and annoyed by the blonde’s childish and irrational attitude. “Clarke, stop.” Lexa grips Clarke’s forearm and turns her around. “Why are you overreacting? You’re acting like this is some big affair when it’s not.”

 _It is to me_ , Clarke wants to say, but instead she writhes away from the brunette’s grip. “I’m going home and you better not follow me. I’m done, Lexa.”

“Done?” Lexa questions, slightly startled. “Done with what, Clarke?”

The blonde just stares at Lexa, anger and jealousy still wrangling inside of her. She can’t stop imagining Harper touching, kissing, and fucking Lexa.

_She’s not yours Clarke._

Clarke angrily shakes her head, furious that she let a small part of her believe that maybe Lexa might feel something for her. But it’s clear to her that Lexa has been into the benefits from the very start, and the worst part is that Clarke knows she has no right to be angry, she was the one who initiated this relationship, she was the one who practically begged.

Clarke makes her way out of the door again, wanting nothing more than to leave and cry in her car, but stubborn as ever, Lexa grips her arm again.

“Hey! Fucking talk to me,” Lexa growls, clearly over the edge now. “Done with what Clarke?”

The blonde turns around and shoves Lexa as hard as she can, making the brunette stumble backwards. She can’t stop imaging Harper doing things to Lexa and Lexa enjoying those things. _About a year, Clarke_. She makes her way towards Lexa and shoves her again-  _About a year, Clarke -a_ nd again.

“Done with you, Lexa!”

Stunned and confused, Lexa can only watch as her favorite blonde walks out of the loft and slams the door shut.

-

 _You did nothing wrong,_ Clarke tries to convince herself as she drives away, tears streaming down her face.

 _You did nothing wrong. You did nothing wrong. You did nothing wrong. You did nothing wrong_. -

But then why does it feel so wrong?

  
-

  
_This is Clarke Griffin’s phone. I’m sorry I can’t take your call right now, bu-_

Lexa tightly clutches the thin phone in her hand before flinging it against the wall.

“One,” _Deep breath._ “Two,” _Deep breath._ “Three,” _Deep breath._

It’s been two weeks since Clarke found Lexa and Harper together. Two weeks since Clarke left Lexa a confused and angry mess. Two weeks since Lexa has last seen or heard from her best friend. Two weeks since Lexa’s been on a rage induced edge.

When Clarke left Lexa’s loft, it took the brunette awhile to get her bearings before she tried to go after her. She didn’t even bother putting on any shoes, she just ran towards the parking lot, taking two steps at a time. But when she got there, Clarke was already driving off.

Since then, Lexa has tried everything to get a hold of Clarke. She’s texted her, called her, emailed her, hell, Lexa has even gone to her house, but to her wonderful luck, Clarke continues to ignore her. It’s driving Lexa mad. The longest they’ve both gone without speaking to each other was 2 days, and that was because Lexa went camping and lost her phone.

“One,” _Deep breath._ “Two,” _Deep breath._ “Three,” _Deep breath._

Lexa doesn’t understand what the fuck went down. All she knows is that she’s confused and angry. Clarke had no right to be angry at her and act like what happened was some big betrayal. Clarke should've known that Lexa would have never fucked Harper knowing she was her family, and that just pisses Lexa off even more, the fact that Clarke would think she was capable of betraying her trust. And then of course, there’s a small part of Lexa telling her that Clarke wasn’t just mad, she was jealous. Lexa doesn’t believe that’s the case, but if it was, that makes it’s all worse. Lexa is a single woman, a single woman who can fuck whoever she wants. She’s no one’s girlfriend, especially no one’s plaything. And Clarke, well she’s fucking married, she can’t act like god damn hypocrite.

Lexa continues to take in a couple of shallow breaths, trying to calm herself down. Her hands continue to shake, giving her that familiar blood pumping feeling.

“One,” _Deep breath._ “Two,” _Deep breath._ “Three,” _Deep breath._

As Lexa's trying her best to mediate her mind and rage, a tall blonde violently swings the door to her office open and starts to look around with wide eyes. “What the fuck was that?”

Lexa looks up at her sister and just leans back in her chair, draping an arm over her eyes. “Not now, Anya.”

Anya ignores her sister and fully makes her way into the brunette’s office. She quickly regards the shattered iPhone on the floor and sighs deeply. “Another phone, Lexa? Seriously? That’s like the fourth one this week.” The blonde walks over to where Lexa’s sitting and kicks her in the leg, earning a growl from the younger girl.

“What the hell is going on with you?”

"Nothing,” Lexa grumbles.

Anya, ignoring her sister’s fake ass lie, starts again. “Like I was saying, what the hell is going on with you?”

“God dammit, Anya!” Lexa practically yells, startling and alarming her sister. If Anya wasn’t worried before, she sure is now. “I already said it’s nothing, fuck!”

The brunette stands up and walks over to the small bar that was installed when she was first appointed vice president of her father’s company. She takes out a single tumbler from the cabinet and pours herself some whiskey, quickly chugging it after.

Lexa doesn’t need Anya in her personal business, she can’t handle shit on her own. Help isn’t something she needs to indulge in.

Lexa pours herself another glass of whiskey, filling it to the brim this time, but before the glass can even touch her lips, a strong hand grasps the tumbler and pulls it out of her hand. “That’s enough, Lexa.”

The brunette turns and glares at her older sister, clenched fist tight against her thighs.

Anya, noticing Lexa’s curled up fist, tightly grits her jaw. “You’re gonna punch me, Lexa? For a fucking glass of whiskey?”

Lexa continues to glare at the blonde before taking a deep breath. She’s not mad at Anya, she knows that, but she just can’t help it. “I’m sorry,” she manages to mumble out between gritted teeth. “Look, you don’t have to worry about the company. It’s going fine. I haven’t let my personal shit interfere with it, alright? So you can leave and tell father that his precious legacy is still intact. ”

Of course Lexa thinks Anya’s worried about her father’s company, but can you blame her? That’s pretty much all they were raised to care about.

Lexa’s father, Gustus, was raised with the ideology that the Woods Company came first. So when the company was passed down to him, every lesson and every upbringing he was raised with were the same upbringings he raised his children with. It was always business and business and more business. And if it weren’t for Lexa’s mom, the Wood’s household would’ve been nothing but strict and dull. Mrs. Woods was the one who brought the brightness into their everyday lives. She was the kisses and the hugs and the _I love yous_ , whereas Gustus was the exact opposite. Mrs. Woods made sure her children weren’t susceptible to love, she taught them that love was a beautiful thing.

But after she died, that all went to shit. The brightness she carried into the Woods household was replaced by a gloaming darkness. They all fell out of place, love became something they despised. Out of all the siblings, Lincoln was the only one who took after his mother. He stayed positive, he tried to keep the hugs and kisses and _I_ _love yous_ going, but of course, it was harder for both sisters.

The thought of love for Anya became something she repulsed. And for Lexa, the thought of love became something she feared. She saw how her father lost himself when he lost his wife, and she never wanted that for herself, she never wanted that pain.

But of course, life didn’t give a fuck about their fears and their wants.

Anya met Raven when she came back from college one summer and unavoidably fell in love with the brunette.

And well Lexa, she fell in love with her best friend.

“I’m not worried about father’s company Lexa,” Anya says, sternly. “I’m worried about you.” Anya pats the top of Lexa’s desk before saying, “Come on, sit down and tell me what’s wrong. I’m not leaving until you do.”

Obeying, Lexa sits down on her desk and runs a hand across her tired face.

“Is… Is your IED acting up again?” Anya asks nervously. She knows that Lexa hates her disorder, so it was always a sensitive subject, but seeing her sister almost attack her for a glass of whiskey makes Anya feel obligated to question her. “Because I know you don’t want antipsychotics, Lexa, but if it’s acting up again, they can help.” Anya puts a soothing hand on Lexa’s knee and squeezes gently.

“No, I know it seems like it, but it’s not that,” Lexa sighs. She puts her hand on top of Anya’s. “It’s Clarke.”

“Clarke?” Anya tries her best not to roll her eyes. She’s never been a big fan of Clarke. The shorter girl has always had Lexa whipped, even though Lexa denies it. And now, seeing her baby sister in distress because of Clarke, only makes Anya like her even less.

“Yeah,” Lexa says, suddenly getting agitated again. “Some shit went down a couple of days ago, and she hasn’t talked to me since and I don’t know what to do.” Lexa doesn’t notice the way her grip on Anya’s hand tightens as she speaks. “She doesn’t answer my calls or any of my fucking messages! She’s completely ignoring me. Fuck, she’s being so god damn stubborn and childish!”

“Lex,” Anya wheezes out. “My hand.”

Lexa, confused, looks down at their hands. Her eyes quickly widen. “Shit!” She immediately loosens her grip on Anya's hand, realizing she was crushing her sister’s fingers.

“Fuck, sorry. I didn’t even know what I was doing. Are you okay?”

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” Anya waves her off. “Your grip wasn’t that tight.” Liar, she can’t even feel her fingers. “So you guys are fighting?”

“Yeah,” Lexa nods. “I guess we are. But this time it’s different. I don’t know if she even wants to see me again.” Lexa runs a hand through her hair. “What if she doesn’t, Anya?” She asks desperately.

“Hey, calm down sis. You guys have fought before, right?" Lexa nods. "Well, this time isn’t any different. I know you’re not going to tell me what happened, but just give her time. She’ll get over whatever happened and you'll both be back to being lame gays in no time. She just needs space.”

”Space? She’s had two weeks of space,” Lexa mutters sadly.

Anya sighs. “Just give it time, Lex.” She awkwardly puts a hand on her sister’s shoulder, hoping it’ll convey the comfort she doesn’t really know how to express. “Sulking around and being angry won’t help you.”

“I know that. But what the fuck can I do? You know I’m not a patient person.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of how inpatient you are, so are all the iPhones you’ve broken this week.” Lexa glares at Anya who just cheekily grins in response.

“Look, the whole gang is going to be at the club tonight. Nyko and Roan are in town, and Echo and Ontari will be there too.” Anya shoves Lexa playfully and wiggles her eyebrows. “You might even find a cute distraction there. Maybe that’s what you need right now. The hell with Clarke, at least for tonight. Come on, what do you say?”

Lexa knows Anya’s right, sulking around and being angry at someone who doesn’t even want to speak with her isn’t going to change anything.

Maybe a night out is exactly what she needs.

“Fuck it, I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it would really suck if they bumped into each other at the club, right?  
> i kind of tried to show a flick of lexa's disorder in this chap, i don't know if it was noticeable.  
> next chapter is a flashback chapter with a lot of clexa smut. yasss highkey my favorite.  
> anyways, ideas and feedback are always welcome.  
> take care homies.  
> twitter: @lexagriff
> 
> \- kay


	8. You Owe Me 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flashback smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sin, enjoy!
> 
> \- kay

_9 Years Ago - Summer After High School Graduation_

 

Three weeks ago, Lexa left to Oregon to go visit her grandmother, so Clarke has not seen Lexa in those twenty one days, meaning she hasn’t had an orgasm in twenty one fucking days. _Twenty. One. Fucking. Days._

As soon as the door to her bedroom closes, Clarke immediately pushes Lexa against the wall and quickly starts to unbuckle the girl’s belt. “Clarke,” Lexa whispers as she watches Clarke unzip her pants. “Your mom is literally in the kitchen and your dad is in the living room. What if they come in?”

“Lexa, I don’t care. I want you now.” Clarke drags Lexa’s jeans down till they're completely off the brunette and impatiently begins to pull her own shorts down. She doesn’t care if she looks incredibly desperate right now, because lets be honest, that’s exactly what she is. Lexa was gone for twenty one fucking days visiting her grandma, which meant Clarke had to be celibate for twenty one fucking days. And now that Lexa's back, Clarke can’t wait any longer, she needs Lexa now, even if it meant her mom or dad might walk in on them. If she was being honest, the thought of getting caught low-key made her wetter. “We’re just gonna have to be extra quiet.” She shoves Lexa on the bed roughly, making the brunette chuckle at Clarke’s eagerness. “Missed me, blondie?” Lexa teases as she lifts her shirt and sports bra over head.

“Shut up, you clearly missed me,” Clarke retorts as she looks at the hard bulge straining against Lexa’s boxers, proving her point.

“I’m not afraid to admit that I missed you,” Lexa mutters as she watches the blonde girl strip. Clarke’s head snaps up at Lexa’s little confession and she finds the brunette grinning cheekily, Clarke ignores the way her heart swells and the way her lips automatically curl up. “You’re a dork.”

When she’s done stripping, Clarke straddles the brunette and leans forwards to kiss her on the lips. She smiles into the kiss when she feels Lexa thrust up into the touch. She quietly moans as she starts to rub herself against the brunette, building up some friction as well as frustration. Lexa groans and Clarke laughs against her lips. “I thought you wanted me now, Clarke,” Lexa grumbles as the blonde continues to rub and grind against her clothed dick. Clarke’s only response is to kiss her harder, putting a hand behind her neck to keep her there. She then starts seeking entrance with her tongue, but Lexa decides to do some teasing of her own, and denies Clarke’s tongue entry. Clarke puts her hand on Lexa’s chest and squeezes her right nipple hard, making Lexa gasp. Clarke takes advantage and forces her tongue into Lexa’s mouth, savoring and tasting.

 _Easy,_ Clarke thinks. She knows Lexa isn’t that hard to please or read when it comes to sex. It was easy for her to learn what made Lexa squirm and what made Lexa come. She also learned what made Lexa bound towards the edge and what made Lexa frustrated. And God, did she love frustrating Lexa.

Lexa’s hands slide up Clarke’s body before she cups both of the blonde’s bodacious breasts. And as soon as she starts playing with both of Clarke’s nipples with her thumbs, Clarke breaks the kiss and leans back a bit, letting Lexa play with her body as she tries to stifle her moans and failing miserably.

“Oh fuck, Lexa,” Clarke groans as Lexa starts sucking and biting her nipples. “I love that, just like that.”

Lexa grins as she lets go of one of Clarke’s nipples. “I know you do.”

Clarke leans down and attacks Lexa’s lips again as her hand makes its way inside the slit of Lexa’s boxers. She bites her lip as she pulls out her leaking cock. “You weren’t joking when you said you missed me,” she teases, running her fingers up Lexa’s hard shaft, circling the slick head with her thumb.

“Your underwear Clarke,” Lexa pants, trying her hardest not to moan aloud since Clarke’s parents are literally downstairs. “Take that shit off.” And Clarke does, she struggles a bit since she’s straddling Lexa. As she watches Clarke wriggle out of her underwear, Lexa wraps her hand around her throbbing shaft and squeezes hard before moving her hand up and down slowly. She whimpers when Clarke slaps her hand away.

“Do you want me or do you want your hand, Lexa?” Clarke asks, grabbing Lexa’s cock and guiding it to her wet lips. Lexa rapidly shakes her head and murmurs, “Yes.”

“Yes what, Lexa?”

“Fuck, Clarke. I want you!” she sputters out excitedly. “Screw my hand!”

Clarke lets her head fall on Lexa’s shoulder as she laughs. “Did you just say, _screw my hand_?”

“Clarke,” Lexa whines as she starts thrusting into the blonde’s hand, the head of her cock probing Clarke's wet lips.

Clarke smirks, glad that she's the reason for Lexa's desperation. She decides not to tease the brunette any longer, guiding Lexa’s cock towards her entrance, and as she slowly starts to sink down, she lets out a loud moan, clearly forgetting that her parents are downstairs. Lexa’s hand immediately flies to cover her mouth.

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly before she continues to sink down, watching the way Lexa’s face turns into one of pure bliss.

Clarke finally settles on top Lexa, the girl’s dick fully deep inside of her. Clarke bites her bottom lip to keep herself from moaning again as she wriggles on the brunette’s lap, trying to force Lexa’s cock deeper. She almost cries out when the brunette grabs her by the hips and starts thrusting up into her body. “So good, Clarke.” the brunette whispers as she keeps on pumping her hips upward.

Anything Clarke was thinking about is long forgotten as she starts to move against Lexa. She puts her hands down on the brunette’s chest and starts moving her hips back and forth, Lexa’s dick sliding in and out of her.

Lexa continues to hold on to Clarke’s hips as the blonde rides her and Clarke has to keep her eyes closed so that she can concentrate on moving because the friction and pleasure is threatening to throw her off balance.

“Clarke,” Lexa grunts out.

“Mmmm?”

“More,” she begs. “Please.”

Clarke relents and begins to speed up, increasing the rhythm of her hips, trying to build more friction as she gives Lexa want she wants. The brunette digs her fingers into Clarke’s hips as she starts to thrust hard into the blonde’s soaking heat, her dick hitting Clarke deeper and deeper, making the blonde’s body scream with pleasure.

As Clarke feels herself get closer to the edge, she feels herself become even more wetter.

She’s moving faster and Lexa’s thrusting harder. Every pull-out of her body causes Clarke to exhale sharply and every inward thrust causes Lexa to gasp.

Lexa starts grunting harder and Clarke loves the sound, she revels in it and _oh fuck_ she wants more. She is so close to the edge but she wants more. Her legs are burning, almost cramping and her heart is racing and she feels like she’s on fire, but still, it isn’t enough. Clarke shifts to take in Lexa deeper, making Lexa stifle a loud cry and herself whimper. She clasps her hands in Lexa’s, puts them over her head, and pushes against them as she grinds harder and faster into Lexa’s hard cock.

They’re so lost in the pleasure and in themselves, that they don’t hear Abby calling them down for lunch.

“Lexa,” Clarke moans out as her grinding becomes more sloppy. “I’m gonna cum.”

Lexa quickly untangles her hands from Clarke’s. She puts one on the blonde’s hip to help guide her back and forth and uses her other hand to pinch Clarke’s clit softly.

And just like that, Clarke freezes before she comes hard all over Lexa’s dick. She moans and mewls while she rides out her orgasm and Lexa just watches her in amazement as she sucks lighlty on one of her sensitive breast.

As Clarke’s orgasm tapers off, Lexa leans up and gives her a kiss before murmuring, “My turn.”

Lexa grabs Clarke by the hips and turns them around so that she’s hovering on top of the blonde. She grins down at Clarke, who’s still giggling at the surprising motion before turning her over so that she’s on her stomach. Lexa leaves a trail of kisses down Clarke’s back and gently lifts the blonde’s hips up. She grabs Clarke’s left thigh, while she guides her wet cock to her entrance.

Clarke whines into her sheets when she feels the tip of Lexa’s dick play with her swollen lips. Clarke knows this is Lexa’s favorite position whenever they have sex, and if she was being honest, it was one of her favorites too. In this position, Lexa can fuck her as hard as she wishes, and the thought of Lexa thrusting into her hard makes her ready to cum again. “God, Lexa,” she exhales sharply when she feels Lexa burry herself completely inside of her in one violent thrust.

Lexa groans in satisfaction, relishing the warm heat for a moment before she starts to pump her hips forward. She feels Clarke tremble beneath her in pleasure and that just spurs her on even more. She starts pinching and groping the blonde’s ass as she continues to thrust into her.

Lexa’s _close_. Can you blame her though? Clarke’s not the only one who hasn’t had sex in twenty one days. There were a couple of girls that she could’ve fucked in Oregon, but for some reason, it just didn’t feel right. So, while she was in Oregon, Lexa had to fuck her hand whenever she was horny, and that was never the same as fucking Clarke. Hell, no girl was the same as fucking Clarke.

“Clarke, shit.”

Clarke starts to push her ass back when she feels Lexa start to rut into her loosely.

“I’m not- Clarke I’m gonna cum!”

Lexa feels her balls and her dick pulse violently as she thrusts harder into Clarke, and when she feels her dick become too sensitive inside of the blonde's tight heat, she quickly pulls out and wraps a hand on her dick before she strokes herself slowly as jets and jets of cum shoot out, every spurt landing on Clarke’s bare ass. She leans back on the balls of her feet as she catches her breath and Clarke lets herself slump forward on the bed, clearly spent.

“There’s cum on my ass, isn’t there?” Clarke’s jokes, her voice comes out muffled by the pillow she’s face planted on.

As a response, Lexa quickly gets off the bed and retrieves a towel from Clarke’s cabinet. She returns and cleans the blonde’s butt.

“No,” she finally answers when she’s satisfied with her job, and Clarke laughs.

After a moment, Clarke feels herself dozing off but comes back to her senses when she hears movement. She turns around and watches as the brunette starts putting her shirt on and her pants. She wraps her sheets around her body and sits down on the edge of the bed. “You’re leaving?” she asks with a frown on her face. The brunette turns and smiles at Clarke as she pulls her pants on. “I’m not, but I don’t want your mom or Jake to come up here and find us naked. So you bett-“

  
_Too late._  
  


Both girls' heads snap to the side when the door opens and-

“Girls, I’ve been calling you…” Abby trails off when she observes the scene in front of her. Lexa's zipping up her pants while her daughter sits on the edge of the bed, clearly naked under the white blanket. She looks directly at Lexa, and the brunette swallows hard.

“Mom…” Clarke says nervously as she quickly stands up in front of Lexa. “It’s not what it looks like??” she tries, knowing it’s complete bullshit. She can’t read her mom’s face, which scares her a little bit. She can’t tell if her mom is angry of just kinda angry.

“Jake!” Abby yells out as she keeps her eyes on her daughter and her daughter's best friend. “Come up here, now!”

  
Okay, maybe a little angry.  
  


“Oh my god.” Clarke runs a hand down her face. “Mom, stop!”

Lexa immediately starts to panic, she shifts from one foot to the other as she glances from Clarke to Abby. “Clarke, Jake’s gonna kill me! He's gonna kill me!”

If the situation wasn’t so fucked, Clarke would’ve laughed at Lexa’s distress. “He’s not gonna kill you, calm down.”

“Calm down?” Lexa asks, incredulously. She visibly pales when she hears Jake’s footsteps coming up the stairs. She starts looking around as she panics. Her eyes land on the window. “Clarke, open the fucking window! I’m jumping out!”

The blonde rolls her eyes. “Lexa stop being so dramatic! He’s not go- No! Lexa get away from the window!”

Abby amusedly watches as Clarke runs towards Lexa with the bedsheets still wrapped around her, and starts to pull Lexa’s hands away from the windowsill, preventing the brunette from literally jumping out. Both girls freeze when Jake’s voice booms in.

“What in the world is going on?”

Lexa feels like she’s gonna pass out. She was just caught defiling his daughter. “Ja-Jake,” she says shakily, but Abby puts a hand up, silencing her. Abby then whispers something into her husbands ear, and both girls watch as his eyes widen. Lexa looks back at the window, thinking about how much it would hurt if she were to jump out of the two story house. Jake’s voice makes her turn back around. “God dammit!” He exclaims, and Lexa’s ready to bolt out the window, except Jake doesn’t do anything. She expected him to grab her or yell at her. But instead, he fishes cash out of his wallet, hands a very smug looking Abby a $20, and makes his way back down the stairs, Abby trailing behind him.

“What the fuck!” Clarke yells out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me as a parent  
> next chapter gonna be lit, real lit. theres gonna be some violence, some angst, and maybe someone new (;  
> hopefully i can post it soon since i started college this week, rip me.  
> anyways, take care homies.  
> twitter: @lexagriff
> 
> \- kay


	9. My Wife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> clubbing and shit.  
> also, confusing!feelings.  
> also, some asshole fucks with lexa and it ain't gonna end pretty.  
> also, flustered!bellamy.  
> enjoy!
> 
> \- kay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> laaaaaaate. i blame work and school and writer's cockblock.

_“Look, the whole gang is going to be at the club tonight. Nyko and Roan are in town, and Echo and Ontari will be there too.” Anya shoves Lexa playfully and wiggles her eyebrows. “You might even find a cute distraction there. Maybe that’s what you need right now. The hell with Clarke, at least for tonight. Come on, what do you say?”_

_Lexa knows Anya’s right, sulking around and being angry at someone who doesn’t even want to speak with her isn’t going to change anything._

_Maybe a night out is exactly what she needs._

_“Fuck it, I’m in.”_

  
-

 

  
It’s just a little over 11 pm when they arrive at the most glamorous club in the city, TonDc.

TonDc is known for bringing the best kind of nightlife experience to the table. Articles in magazines and newspapers have praised and highlighted it as one of the best clubs. As a result, people from all over the city and the state that seek an adrenaline filled night, come to TonDc to spend just a couple of hours dancing and drinking. There’s not a single weekend that goes by without it overflowing with all kinds of people.

As the three siblings make their way towards the club’s entrance, they seem unfazed to see that the line to enter is extremely long and crowded with people that are ready to have a night of fun. From the looks of it, the line seems to be frozen in place. Of course, this is no problem for the impassive trio who just walk towards the bouncer that’s guarding the door. Anya only nods once to the big man before he immediately lifts up the rope, giving them entry to the booming interior of the club, this earns a lot of curses and groans of desperation from the people who’ve been waiting for hours.

Luckily for Lincoln, Lexa and their friends, their access to TonDc in granted without the need to be on the waiting list, since the owner of the club is Anya.

If you were to ask Anya who the love of her life was, she’d say it’s her club. (Even though everyone knows it’s Raven.)

Anya opened up TonDc three years ago after she decided that she didn’t want anything to do with her father’s company. Even though she had a law degree like her younger sister and was good at doing her job as a company lawyer, Anya knew that her head and her heart were not solely focused there. So after a lot of encouragement from her siblings and her girlfriend, Anya left her father’s company and opened up her own club. From time to time, she still does a few legal side jobs for her father, from small cases to just legal reviews, she didn’t spend four years of her life in law school for nothing.

The siblings make their way inside and start towards the upstairs vip lounge where their friends are all waiting. The three nod and mutter greetings towards familiar faces as they walk through the crowd, looking like elegant billionaires with their suits and expensive watches and crisp coats. As they walk by, a couple of women stop Lexa. The one's that know her from previous encounters, put a hand on her shoulder while they tell her they miss her. Others come forward asking her if she wants to dance, but Lexa declines each time, earning a _‘that’s a first’_ from Anya and a surprised look from Lincoln.

Since they arrived at TonDc, Lincoln sensed that something was majorly wrong with Lexa. He knew from Octavia that his younger sister and her blonde best friend were not talking to each other. Apparently they had a huge fight. When his girlfriend told him that she didn’t know any details of what the fight entailed, he asked Anya about it. But his sister just told him the same thing, adding, _“it was probably another lame fight, just like the previous ones.”_ But the thing is, everyone knows that Clarke and Lexa have not gone more than a day or two without talking to each other, fighting or not. So Lincoln knows this fight was not just _‘another lame fight’_. And even though his little sister’s face shows indifference, Lincoln can tell that whatever it is that happened is definitely eating her up.

“Ah! The three musketeers have finally arrived,” Roan jokes as they finally make their way towards the round booth where their friends have been waiting.

Anya rolls her eyes and flips off the black haired man before shoving him to the side so that she can sit next to him. Lincoln slides in next to Anya while Lexa sits across from them, next to Echo. Once they’re settled in, they all clasp arms and exchange a few words, from _‘it’s good to see you again,’_ to _‘you’re still as hideous as the last time.’_

As they finish greeting and teasing each other, a bartender from downstairs takes their drink order, and as he does, Echo nudges Lexa. “It seems like you have a new fan, Lex.” She jots her chin forward, pointing to the other side of the lounge where an attractive redhead is looking directly at them.

Lexa just shakes her head and grins. “She’s probably looking at you. You give off a mega gay vibe. You sure you’re not gay, Echo?” Echo shoulder shoves her playfully at the same time the bartender asks Lexa for her drink order. “I’ll have a coke with a lot of ice,” she tells him, making Anya laugh.

“No way. We’re here to have fun Lex, not to drink Dr.Pepper.” Her friends holler in agreement and Lexa rolls her eyes. “I don’t know, An.” she mutters, slightly unsure. Lexa knows she’s not supposed to drink a lot when she’s on edge. Drinking when she’s anxious or overwhelmed weakens her senses, it makes her even more vulnerable, and if something were to set her off or if something were to happen, she wouldn’t be able to act properly or restrain herself from doing something she wouldn’t want to do.

For the past few years, Lexa’s had the time to learn and fairly master the concept of controlling herself when she’s raging or when she’s triggered. It was a difficult road as a kid and it still is now. But as the years have passed, it has become easier for Lexa to dominate her inner fiend. Sometimes she can easily walk away from a fight and sometimes she can’t help but engage in the barbarity of it all. And every time there’s a strong chance that she’ll break, Lexa tries to stop herself and even if she doesn’t succeed, it’s a feat nonetheless. Because controlling something that’s meant to be uncontrollable is supposed to be an impossibility and Lexa can break through the cracks of that impossibility, even if she fails at walking away.

Many times on many occasions though, Clarke has always been there, ready to intervene. There has been moments when Lexa doesn’t even have to try anything, she loves Clarke with such an intensity that even her disorder backpedals when the blonde is there to whisper in her ear or to grab her by the waist and pull her away from whatever situation she is in. And maybe that’s part of why she’s been feeling like complete trash since shit hit the fan with Clarke.

Her anchor is missing.

“Come on, Lexa,” Anya continues with a small grin. “It’s Friday. Get a little loose, get a little drunk and have some fun. That’s why we came here in the first place. ‘Out of sight and out of mind’ usually works with a little booze. Maybe if-”

“If she doesn’t want to drink, let her be, Anya.” Lincoln interrupts from his place next to her. He gives his blonde sister a knowing look, making her put her arms up in surrender. “Alright, alright, “ she relents with a sigh, but Lexa shakes her head. “No, it’s fine. You’re right.” Lexa doesn’t see the need for her to be careful tonight, she’s here with friends after all, what’s the worst that can happen?

“I’ll have a whiskey neat,” she tells the bartender, who’s been patiently waiting this entire time. He writes it down on his tiny ass notepad before taking everyone else’s order. Anya and Lincoln order the same drink, whiskey neat, making every single one of their friends mumble _‘Woods and their fucking whiskey.’_

“So, where the hell are Ryder and Ontari?” Anya asks after the bartender leaves.

“Ryder’s wife had a small accident at work, so he decided to stay home,” Roan responds with a shrug. “And Ontari said she was too tired to come out anymore, so she stayed home too.”

“Lucky bastards,” Lexa murmurs and Roan scoffs offendedly.

“I thought you loved us, Woods.”

“And who gave you that ridiculous idea?” Lexa jokes with a smug grin.

When the bartender finally returns with all of their drinks, Lexa leans back against the booth and relaxes. She watches as her friends and her siblings joke around and laugh, saying stupid things and retelling old stories, and soon enough, Lexa finds herself laughing and smiling along. She finds herself feeling way better than she was feeling before.

“To a good night,” Echo says as she raises her glass to the center of the table. Everyone mimics her movement and Lexa suddenly makes eye contact with the redhead across the room that’s been eyeing her since she sat down. The girl gives Lexa a wide sultry grin before biting her bottom lip. Lexa smirks back before mumbling “to a good night.”

Everyone clinks their drinks together, before they return to their easy conversation and their fun filled reminiscing.

A good night? Right.

-

The sonorous bass from the club’s music thrums and throbs within Clarke’s bones and veins as she moves. The winding heat around her starts to build up with each movement and every sway as bodies push in from all sides, all moving to the rhythm of the booming music.

After a lot of nagging and begging, Raven and Octavia finally convinced (dragged) Clarke to go out clubbing with them. Both girls knew something went down with their blonde best friend and Lexa and it wasn’t an educated guess. Every time they brought it up with Clarke, the blonde would tell them to shut the fuck up. So yeah, it wasn’t an educated guess. Then there was the texting and the not so subtle questions from both Lexa and Clarke. Lexa would text them daily and ask about Clarke even though she wasn’t the type to text and Clarke would ask Octavia about Lexa, she’d try to be subtle about it but Octavia could smell right through her bullshit.

Raven and Octavia both knew that whatever happened was something very serious, even though Clarke would not tell them what really went down, but they also know that whatever it was that happened, their two friends would figure it out on their own. So they decided to leave it to them. But after seeing Clarke practically suffocate herself with work, both brunette’s decided it was time for an intervention, which to them was the opposite of an actual intervention. It pretty much meant that they were gonna get drunk and dance their asses off. And after long hours of annoying the blonde, Clarke decided that maybe it was actually a good idea.

Clarke throws her arms in the air, closes her eyes and lets herself get lost in the music.

If there’s one thing she’s been feeling for the past few days, it’s remorse.

Clarke knows she behaved irrationally that morning when she found Harper wrapped around Lexa. But it was inevitable, seeing the lips of the woman she loves around her cousin’s set something off inside of her. And god, she _punched_ Lexa, she punched the woman that would never hurt her. And every time Clarke thinks about it, how she willingly struck Lexa, she becomes angry with her own self.

Days after it happened, Clarke found herself wanting nothing more than to run into Lexa’s arms and apologize for everything that happened, for everything she did. But the thing is, Clarke knows that Lexa deserves better than some apology. She knows that she deserves better than her. So Clarke decided not to seek her out. She knows it’s stupid, but her stubbornness and anger and embarrassment of it all undermines her and she can’t help it. Clarke tells herself that right now they just need some space to think things through, that after her thoughts and mental mange have cleared out, she’ll go and talk to Lexa.

She pretends like the idea of seeing Lexa again doesn’t terrify her. She pretends that hurting the woman she loves isn’t killing her inside. She pretends that a break is exactly what they need.

And to make matters worse, like if she wasn’t already feeling enough,

Clarke still feels the anger, the jealousy and the desperation from the day she found Harper in Lexa’s loft. And the worst thing is that she just can’t fucking help it, just like she can’t help that the first and last thing on her mind each and everyday are two sharp green eyes.

And it’s killing her, completely killing her.

Bitterness and guilt and everything she came here to forget starts to well up inside of her again, so Clarke turns her attention back to the dance floor and starts moving in sync with all the bodies sharing her space. Here on the dance floor, next to her friends, she can easily decide to let loose and let go of all her thought filled inhibitions and let the intoxicating music take her over.

And so she does.

“There she is!” Octavia yells over the loud music. “Move your shit Griff!” Raven moves behind Clarke and puts her hands on her hips while Octavia moves in front of her, trapping the blonde in. The girls start dancing and grinding against each other, laughing when they get sensual looks from the men and women around them, and soon enough, Clarke finds herself enjoying every moment of it.

-

Lexa lets her head drop back against the bathroom stall as she watches the kneeling woman’s head bob back and forth between her legs.

The feeling of her dick’s sensitive head prodding the back of the redhead’s throat should make her moan or whimper, but Lexa just watches the woman work as she keeps her lips sealed shut and her brow crinkled up in frustration. She’s trying her hardest to concentrate on the woman taking her in, not on a specific blonde.

After a moment, Lexa stiffens, her grip on the woman’s head tightening as she inhales sharply, but she doesn’t moan or groan her release, she just lets the woman suck her dry as she cums with the familiar feeling of fuzziness radiating through her body.

Orgasms are meant to be pleasurable. They're meant to release endorphins to ease the mind or kill some stress. But right now, Lexa feels exactly the opposite.

She doesn’t feel it relieving her. She doesn't feel at ease. She doesn’t feel what she's supposed to feel, what she wanted to feel. And she isn’t surprised. 

How can anything be enjoyable when your mind is drowning in a sea of blue eyes?

Lexa quickly straightens and composes herself. She tucks herself in before pulling up her pants. She ignores the way her stomach twists in disgust and shame, not wanting to think of the reason why she feels sicker by the second.

As she finishes tucking her dress shirt into her pants, Lexa tells the redheaded woman that she hopes to see her again - even though Lexa knows she never will - and gives her a fake number (Anya’s) before making her way out of the bathroom and towards the bar, more than ready to get a couple of strong drinks into her system and maybe two blue eyes out of it.

/

Moments later, Lexa’s sitting on one of the stools positioned at the end of the bar as she’s halfway through her drink, whiskey and coke.

She’s lost count on how many she’s had after her third.

Picking up the glistening glass, Lexa examines it’s contents. Is this one her fourth? Her fifth? She thinks that maybe it’s her sixth, though that doesn’t stop her from drinking. The bartender, a busty brunette, keeps feeding her the alcohol without needing to ask and Lexa knows the bartender might want something in return at the end of the night, if the sultry glances are anything to go by. Usually Lexa would be more than glad to be taking someone home on a Friday night, but this time she can’t find herself to care at all, because she knows she isn’t going home with anyone, she knows she can’t.

“Did that make you feel better?”

Lexa turns and watches as her brother sits down on the stool next to her while he waits for an order of drinks.

Lincoln saw his sister eyeing the redheaded woman the entire night. And when Lexa disappeared for a bathroom break, he didn’t fail to notice the redheaded woman trailing behind her. It’s safe to say that Lincoln knows what his sister was doing, he also knows that she must be feeling the opposite of what she wanted to feel, since she’s clearly drinking her ass off.

“No,” Lexa admits, slurring slightly. She looks back at her drink and swallows the small lump in her throat that keeps reappearing. “I think it just made things worse.” And it’s true. She thought that maybe Anya was right, and a distraction was what she needed. She thought that maybe a quick blow job by a gorgeous woman would bring her some kind of fucked up comfort. But Lexa should’ve known better, she should’ve known that it wouldn’t of worked. Just like it hasn’t been for the past few months.

Lincoln gives Lexa’s hand a gentle squeeze and graces her with a sad smile before knowingly saying, “that’s what love does, you know? It makes the things we should enjoy feel erroneous without the person we truly crave.” Leaving it at that, Lincoln picks up the tray of drinks the bartender hands him before making his way back up the stairs, leaving Lexa to dwell on what he said.

_That’s what love does, you know? It makes the things we should enjoy feel erroneous without the person we truly crave._

Love.

Lexa laughs through her nose before giving the busty bartender a look.

The woman fills up her glass again.

-

They’re smiling and breathing hard as they sit down at the table where Bellamy and his cute coworker are sitting.

“Oh my god! Shut up, Bellamy,” the woman laughs and smacks Bellamy on the arm. Clarke smiles as she watches Bellamy blush when the brown haired woman - _Gina_ , Clarke remembers - touches his arm. Her smile widens, thinking how much Lexa would tease him if she were here. Her smile turns into a small frown, _Lexa’s not here._

Noticing Clarke’s change in mood, Octavia quickly tries to distract her. “Hey, Clarkey.” she nudges the blonde. “Wanna go get a drink with me and Rae?”

“I’m the designated driver, O.”

Clarke watches as Octavia’s face falls slightly. “But I’ll still walk with you guys if you want.” She smiles as she gets up and pulls Octavia and Raven up by the hand. It’s not her friends fault that she’s in this mess, or a complete mess for that matter. She knows it’s her own fault she’s been feeling like complete shit, so there's no way she’s going to let her sad wallowing bring her friends down too, especially when they’re just trying to help. But as the three girls stand up, Gina does too. “I’m going to go get this idiot-“ she points towards Bellamy. “-another drink. If you girls want, I’ll get your drinks. Just let me know what you take.”

Octavia is about to reply, a polite refusal slipping out of her tongue, when Raven interjects with a small fist bump. “Yes! Thank you! That would be great! I feel like I didn’t dance enough. I want to get back on the dance floor!”

Octavia makes a mental note to choke the shit out of Raven later.

After Gina takes their orders, two gins and water, she makes her way towards the bar and Raven immediately begins to pull both of her best friends back towards the dance floor. “Hey, Bellboy,” she mutters towards Bellamy. “We’re going back on to the floor, let us know when you’re girlfriend comes back with our drinks!”

The three girls are gone before either of them can see him blush furiously.

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

-

“… beer, two gins and a water, please.”

The brown haired woman smiles her way after giving the bartender her order and Lexa tries her best to politely smile back before returning to her drink. Lexa promised herself that after she emptied it, she was going to go home and sleep for 500 hours. Being sleep deprived for the last couple of days is finally taking effect, so she deserves some sleep.

Or so she thought.

“Woods,” a voice from behind her growls out.

Lexa lazily turns around in her seat, trying to locate who the angry gruffed up voice belongs to. Her lips immediately curl up in disgust when she sets sight on Carl Emerson. She quickly turns her back on him, clearly not giving one fuck about the man.

Carl Emerson worked for Mount Weather Corp before he started working for Azgeda Nation, both corporations being immediate enemies to the Woods Company.

About a year ago, Emerson hacked stocks and funds from the Woods Company in the name of Mount Weather. He was an ex marine, so his skills were one of the best, especially since the authorities were never able to prove his actions. But thankfully, that was the last time Emerson was able to ravage through the Woods company since Gustus decided to amp up every inch of their technology with high security.

Nevertheless, Emerson was the reason why Lexa’s father lost over half a million dollars in funds last year, he was also the reason why Lexa was good at her job. He became her motivation.

After Emerson’s little stunt, Lexa made sure that every client Mount Weather had, became a Woods client. Every single one. That resulted in the loss of Emerson’s job, since Mount Weather had to shut down completely due to the fact that their clientele was no longer theres. But still, that was not enough for Lexa.

Now, she was after Azgeda, making her rivalry with Emerson more than just shitty ass company play. It was getting personal now.

“I’m fucking talking to you, Woods.” Emerson’s just millimeters away from the brunette now, so close that she can feel his warm breath against the back of her neck.

Lexa resists the urge to elbow him right in the nose.

“I know you are,” she sloshes her drink around boredly. “I just don’t care.”

“Well you should!” His voice is dripping with irritation and Lexa smirks into her drink, thinking that maybe he found out about the big client she snatched away from under Azgeda’s nose.

Except that she’s wrong, very fucking wrong.

Emerson, losing his cool, shoves her roughly, making the brunette almost fall out of the stool. She grips the glass in her hand tightly and fails to notice how one of the bartenders quickly whispers something to the other who rapidly makes his way up the stairs towards the vip lounge.

Lexa keeps her grip strong on the poor glass and clenches her jaw as she forces her gaze forward. She’s been on edge for more than 14 days, but she’s not about to let this piece of fuckdick throw her over it. She exhales slowly, hoping for a rush of calmness to seep through her even though she knows it’s impossible at this point. “What do you want?” she asks as calm as she can.

Her answer comes slamming down on the bar counter, right next to where her drink is sitting. Lexa observes the open wallet warily, eyes landing on the cozy family picture. Emerson’s cuddled up with his wife and three children. Lexa didn’t even know he had kids, or a wife for that matter, you’d guess people would have better standards.

Lexa continues to examine the photo and her eyes keep getting stuck on Emerson’s apparent wife. How he managed to snatch such an attractive woman is a mystery to Lexa. The woman is black haired, very gorgeous, and is hugging Emerson tightly. Lexa swears she’s seen this woman before but she can’t seem to remember where from. “You have a nice family,” she mutters, not trying to hide the disinterest in her voice. “But what the hell does this have to do with anything? What does this have to do with the fact that you’re ruining my night?” She grabs the leather wallet, closes it, and sloppily slams it against the dirty blonde’s chest.

“That woman in that picture is my wife.”

“No shit, Emerson,” Lexa says, bringing the whiskey filled glass to her lips.

“She’s also the woman you fucked at the charity gala your father hosted.”

Lexa chokes mid sip.

Clearly he must be wrong, Lexa knows she wouldn’t put a single finger on anything Emerson has touched, not even if her life depended on it.

But then the memories from that night come rushing in.

It was last year, Lexa remembers now.

The boring speech about prioritizing charities that her father mantled on about, the old white snobby rich men trying to converse with her, the sultry flirting she engaged in with random women.

It was the usual.

Lexa smirks when she remembers the tall gorgeous woman that slammed her against the wall of an empty hallway, she remembers the woman begging her to fuck her in the coat closet. Her smirk immediately falls when she realizes that that gorgeous woman is indeed the one in the wallet, meaning… _fuck_ , she was Emerson’s wife. And _double fuck_ , she remembers giving Emerson’s wife exactly what she wanted, repeatedly.

_Well, shit._

The cracking of knuckles behind her has Lexa shooting out of her seat, solely out of defensive reflex. She sways when her feet land on the ground, _fucking whiskey_.

Lexa shakes her head in attempt to awaken her drunken state as she faces the dirty blonde man. His face is now bulging red with anger.

“You did it on purpose,” he growls as he takes a step towards Lexa. She immediately lifts up a hand, signaling for him to stop his movements, she doesn’t want to lose control, not now, not when she’s drunk and on a major edge. “Stop, you don’t want to do this, Emerson. I didn’t know she was your wife. I didn’t even know you were married.”

Emerson shakes his head, clearly not believing her. In his mind, this was some sort of revenge, some sort of business retaliation against his actual family.

Practically snarling, Emerson lunges forward and on instinct, Lexa immediately sends her right leg flying. The sharp kick lands perfectly on his chest, immediately causing him to fall.

People that were sitting across the bar are now standing, clearly excited to see where this might go.

Lexa’s breathing comes out short and strained as she tries to control herself, her shoulders rising heavily in sync with her chest.

Emerson quickly recovers and she growls out a warning. “Stop! Do not be stupid, Emerson! You don’t want to fucking do this!”

“You know,” he says as he rubs his chest, clearing ignoring her warning. “When I found out that is was you she had an affair with, the first thing that I thought was, _she’s just like her mother._ ”

Lexa’s breath hitches. “Don’t,” she growls out, her teeth baring slightly. “Don’t.”

When Lexa’s mother died, nasty rumors were spread about her. There was one rumor that caused Lexa and her family the most amount of pain, one that accused Mrs. Woods of being unfaithful to her husband. It was implied that she slept with a variety of company men, some even said that she slept with rivaling men just for the thrill of it. Of course, the rumors were not true, not a single one, and Lexa’s family knew that most of these rumors were instigated by Mount Weather as an attempt to strike Gustus at his time of vulnerability.

But just because they were false did not mean they hurt any less. Lexa’s mother was dead, and yet her name and her legacy was spat on. Lexa would never admit it, but that rumor was one of the reasons why she blanched out from reality after her mother died.

And now here Emerson was, making Lexa relive her past, all while spitting on the name of woman Lexa would do anything to bring back.

“And you’re just like her, aren’t you?” Emerson continues his disgusting tongue-lashing, and at the same time, Lexa feels the reins to her iniquity loosen, and knowing she’s capable of forcing herself to walk away, she decides to do just that. She turns on her heel and starts walking away.

But Emerson’s not done with her. He wants her to snap, he wants her to let go, because he wants to ruin her, he wants to make her hurt like she made him hurt, because this isn’t about business anymore, she went after his personal life, she went after his marriage. And that’s just something he can’t let go of.

“Tell me, Woods. Is Gustus even your real father? For all we know, Wallace might be your father,” he raises his voice so that the brunette can hear him as she saunters off.

Lexa’s hands have now gone white, she’s clenching them so hard that her fingernails are now digging harshly into her palms. But she continues to walk away, focusing on the slight pain in her hands instead of the way Emerson’s words make her crave the familiar blood thrilling sensation of her knuckles tearing apart.

She’s not weak, she will not let some piece of assfuck break her.

Except it’s way harder than she thinks.

Especially when he hits her where it really hurts.

“I heard your mother was quite the generous giver.”

She freezes and Emerson laughs disdainfully, knowing he’s close to getting that he wants, just a little push and-

“A whore daughter, just like her whore mother.”

And those eight words are what causes the self-dominance in Lexa’s soulcase to slip. Her wants are now out of the fucking window. Everything is suddenly out of her control, she is now under her treacherous mind’s will and she can feel it. It makes her shudder and she knows she can’t make her legs move or her body for that matter, and it’s not because she wants to, no, it’s because she doesn’t want to anymore. 

Lexa slowly turns around, seeing only one thing. Red.

Emerson stands tall with a cocky smirk gracing his lips, proud that he finally got what he wanted from her. He rolls his shoulders, preparing his muscles for the brutal dance that’s about to take place.

A mix martial artist against an ex military man, it's a vicious combination, one that screams bloodbath, but the only difference is that Carl Emerson was not born with unexplainable rage flowing through his blood.

But Lexa, Lexa was.

And now that Emerson has unbarred that rage, he’s going to learn what it feels like to fuck with the wrong side of Lexa Woods.

-

Gina returns to the table with a small tray full of drinks and Bellamy immediately gets up, ready to help the woman he’s embarrassingly falling for.

He’s so flustered that he almost trips over nothing as he stands. _There goes being a smooth as fuck gentlemen._

“Wow, Blake,” Gina snorts. “That was very impressive.”

Bellamy just mocks out a laugh as he helps the brown haired woman set the drinks down. He doesn’t know why he’s acting like a complete fool tonight.

Sike. He knows exactly why. But it’s not his fault. Why did Gina have to be so beautiful and so charming and so irresistible?

“You know,” Gina says as she sits down next to him, smiling when she pretends not to notice they way he nervously puts his arm behind her chair. “I think there was going to be a fight by the bar, but I left before people could crowd the place even more.”

“Oh, yeah?” Bellamy doesn't give a fuck, he's entranced by the way her lips move so smoothy, his eyes following the way her top lip curls with each word that comes out of her mouth. Fuck a fight, this is more interesting.

“Yeah,” she answers, taking a sip of her beer. “Some brunette with these cool looking braids and some bulky man. It was getting pretty intense, so I left as soon as I got the drinks. One of the bartenders even made another one run upstairs to call the bouncers or something, after the bulky man shoved the brunette. And when I was leaving, I swear Bellamy, I saw her kick him square in the chest. It was like some sick karate move, I probably would’ve missed it if I blinked.”

Bellamy’s head snaps up, his trance officially broken. “Her?”

_some brunette with these cool looking braids._

_i saw her kick him square in the chest._

_it was like some sick karate move._

Earlier Lexa asked Bellamy if he wanted to go out and drink with her. Apparently her, Anya and Lincoln were going out, but she never said where.

But she can’t be here, right?

That brunette can’t be her, right?

No, of course not, because theres a lot of women that are brunette’s, with badass braids, that can kick men square in the chest.

_Shit, shit, shit._

“Was she tall? Did she have green eyes?” Bellamy’s questions comes out a little frantic, making his co-worker’s eye brows quirk in slight confusion.

“I couldn’t see her eyes because it was dark,” Gina says. “She did look tall, but she was sitting down, so I don’t know. But you know what, he called her by her name or last name I think.”

What she says next makes Bellamy painfully choke on his drink.

“He called her Woods.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boo, shit's about to go down since lexa's ied is making an appearance. i was gonna include the fight scene in this chap, but i didn't like how i wrote it, so next part of this chap i most definitely will. also, cl*rkes gonna be there when it all goes down, remember when i said she's the only one that can calm lexa down?  
> ideas and shit, let me know. i'll try to post as soon as i can, but life's a big ass fucking bitch and suddenly i have responsibilities, sigh.  
> take care homies.  
> follow me on twitter: @lexagriff
> 
> -kay


	10. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lexa fucking up emerson and some of the aftermath of her breakdown. 
> 
> (there's a little ass flashback in there, so don't get confused about that)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some of lexa's breakdown is cataloged from personal experience, meaning it's not a general description of what everyone that has ied goes through. some people go through exactly the same shit as me, some are worst and some aren't as bad.
> 
> just low-key ignore how fucking late i am with this chapter lol. enjoy!
> 
> \- kay

Pieces of shattered glass fly all over the place as his back slams against the bar counter for what feels like the third time.

Emerson uses his hands to push himself off the counter, pretending the small slashes the broken glass gifted him with don’t sting his back- and recovers at the same time Lexa lunges forward again. The brunette sends a series of punches his way and even though he manages to avoid a few, plenty of them land. He decides to parrot Lexa’s movements and rapidly throws blow after blow. She ducks and covers most of them but a few manage to get past her defenses and strike her brutally. But to Emerson it seems like she doesn’t feel any of them and it’s started to frustrate him. He knows they’ve been at it for a minute or two, both bloody and bruised and cut up, but brutal punch after brutal punch that he lands, the brunette doesn’t even seemed fazed because in a flash she’s back at it again, lunging with extra force. Even when he puts all his strength into one hit, she shrugs it off like an itch, barely reacting. It’s like she doesn’t feel it at all.

Because she fucking doesn’t.

Unknown to Emerson, the adrenaline and fury coursing through ever single one of Lexa’s veins causes her to feel nothing but numbness. She’s like a fucking punching bag, a punching bag that hits you back with a shit ton of force. He doesn’t take it into notice, at least not fully.

But what he does take into notice is one thing, Lexa is not defending herself. He sees it now, she’s not trying to protect her face or her body, and it finally clicks.

Lexa is just trying to attack.

It’s honestly unexpected. She’s supposed to be this big and bad mix martial artist, but he doesn’t really see that. He just sees her reckless movements, her sloppy footing, and her absence of defense.

With a bloody grin, Emerson decides to use this discovery to his advantage. But before he can play out his part, a sharp blow to the nose causes him to stumble back a few steps. He rapidly wipes the blood that’s now pouring out of his nose and shakes his head - trying to clear up the fuzziness the blow rewarded him with - before returning to his previous stance. He tries to calculate his movements before attacking. But Lexa doesn’t give him the chance to do so as she surges forward again. Panicking, Emerson does the first thing that comes to mind, attack. He throws a strong righty, aimed for Lexa’s face, but with her left arm, Lexa easily deflects it and uses her right curled up fist to strike him right in the ribs. Emerson gasps and bends inward, the force of Lexa’s sharp and agile punch feeling like a stab wound. He instinctively uses both of his arms to protect his stomach, leaving his face and the rest of his body vulnerable.

He realizes his mistake too late.

With wide eyes, all he can do is watch as Lexa’s right fist crashes into his check. She strikes him so hard that his head snaps back, and Emerson suddenly feels himself falling. He knows that as soon as his back meets the floor, it’ll only be a matter of seconds before he loses consciousness. But unfortunately for him, Lexa doesn’t let him fall. Instead she tightly grips each side of his head to keep him still. On his knees, Emerson knows what’s coming and all he can do is wish that he was unconscious for what’s about to come. With a loud snap, Lexa’s right knee collides with his jaw as she forcefully brings his head down to meet it.

A sickening crack pierces the air.

_(Who needs a jaw anyways)_

Lexa lets her tight ass grip on Emerson’s head go and he immediately collapses onto the floor with a loud thud. With her head cocked to the side, the brunette watches as he groans in pain. Blood spews out of his mouth and his nose as he tries not to suffocate on it. And before anything can flicker inside of the brunette’s head, her feet start to move on their own.

They’re both oblivious to the drunken shouts and to the loud cheering going on around them, too focused on the pain and the flurry of it all to even notice.

Emerson’s vision is distorted, dark around the edges and blurry, but he can still make out the brunette’s tall form as she makes her way towards him. Sudden terror and fright overwhelms him. Using his elbows, he tries to slide away as fast as he can. But he’s not fast enough. In a second, the brunette is quickly straddling him. Emerson thinks he sees a wicked smile slowly grace her lips as her knees painfully digging into his biceps, giving him zero capability of moving or attacking her with his arms.

Emerson’s fucked and he knows it.

The brunette grabs as handful of his hair and painfully lift his head up. -

Emerson’s blue eyes stare directly into Lexa’s hooded green eyes. His wide eyes, showing nothing but fear. He wants to whither away, he wants to beg, and he’s thinking it. But the brunette doesn’t give him a chance to do shit. In a blink on an eye, her fist come barreling down on him.

Right now, there’s no such thing as mercy in Lexa’s mind.  
  
-

“Wow! What the hell is going on?”

The blue-eyed brunette pulls her friends away from the dance floor and to the side when she notices a crowd of people grouping around the bar station. She receives a loud and angry _‘what the fuck’_ from Raven and annoyed look from her blonde friend. Okay, _maybe_ she pulled them away a little too… rough, _maybe_.

“Really, O?” Raven whines as she glowers at Octavia. “I was dancing!” Her whining almost sounds like a spoiled child’s and it only makes Octavia chuckle in response, which only leads to Raven intensifying her glare.

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry. But just look!” Octavia points to the bar and both women have no choice but to follow where her finger is pointing.

A large ass group of people are lingering around the bar. The compassing ring of a wall the mass of people have created is obscuring whatever commotion must be going on on the other side. It makes it hard for the three women to see what’s actually happening.

“What’s that about?” Clarke mumbles with a furrowed brow.

“I don’t know,” Raven replies. Octavia just shrugs.

Raven’s big brown eyes continue to dawdle around the crowd that seems to be getting rowdier by the second, before they widen excitedly. “Holy shit, bitch!” She grips Clarke’s arm and shakes it. “Maybe it’s a fight!” Her voice is dripping with excitement, making the blonde roll her eyes. “This isn’t high school, Raven. Calm down.” Raven ignores her blonde friend’s pessimistic attitude, and extends her neck, trying her best to see what the commotion might be about. Her stomach flips a bit when she realizes that Anya’s gonna be super fucking pissed if a fight is actually happening. The last time some dudes fought inside of TonDc, they ended up breaking a lot of shit. And out of anger, Anya ended up firing half of her staff. Raven sometimes legit thinks that her girlfriend loves her club more than she loves her, even though she knows it’s not true. “An is not going to be happy if some assholes are fucking shit up again,” she murmurs, making Octavia and Clarke nod in agreeance.

“Maybe you should call her,” Clarke suggests. “Especially if it’s a fight.”

Raven knows she _probably_ should call her girlfriend and tell her what’s going on, but to be honest it’s been awhile since she’s seen some fun action. “It’s probably not even a fight,” she says. “For all we know it’s probably just some girls dancing on top of the bar again. Plus, Anya’s hanging out with some of her old friends tonight and I don’t want to call her for no reason. Maybe it’s a good idea if we go see what’s really happening.” Octavia and Clarke give her a pointed look, obviously knowing she just wants to be nosy. “Just to _assess_ the situation and make sure people are actually fighting before I give her a call,” she recovers sheepishly. “Come on, let’s just go see!”

The three best friends make their way towards the gathered crowd as curiosity gets the best of them, and as they get closer, strained grunting and hard smacking against something hard and wet can be heard. The three women grimace when they realize that the loud sound that echoes must be flesh meeting flesh. “That doesn’t sound good at all,” Octavia mutters.

The strained grunting gets louder the closer they get, and as the sound continues to resonate in Clarke’s ears, her steps falter a bit. The grunting ticks something in her brain. It’s almost like she’s familiar with the sound. But before the blonde can thoroughly analyze it, the three women finally get close enough so that Raven can catch a glimpse of what’s happening. The brunette animatedly gets on her tiptoes and cranes her neck over a stranger’s shoulder, relived that her inquisitive ass is going to be satisfied.

Except that it’s not.

Raven immediately stiffens when she sees _them_ , when she sees _her_ knee collide with a random man’s face. “Oh shit.”  
  
“What’s up, Rae? What’s going on?” Octavia asks worriedly. She notices that the excitement that was all over Raven’s face is no longer there. But Raven doesn’t respond. Instead, her brown and wide eyes stare directly at Clarke, a grim expression plastered on her face.

Clarke just blinks back before she quirks her eyebrows in confusion. She gazes back towards the crowd that’s blocking everything and then back at Raven. The brunette is pale as fuck and that just feeds Clarke’s confusion. “Raven? What is it?“ The brunette doesn’t respond and Clarke watches as the woman swallows a large lump in her throat. “Rae, just tell me what-“

And then it clicks.

The familiar grunting? Raven’s horrified expression?

“Clarke,” Raven nervously breathes out when Clarke’s blue eyes widen in realization.

Clarke feels her stomach drop. “No, no, no,” she echoes with a shake of her head, overwhelming panic instantly tugging at her. “Tell me it’s not-“

“Clarke-“

It’s fucking Lexa.

In an instant, Clarke finds herself shoving people out of the way. She’s moving so fast that Raven and Octavia are having a hard time keeping up with her.

There’s not a single fuck Clarke can give as she pushes and rams into people, desperately trying to get to the front, desperately trying to get to the sole focus of everyone’s drunken leisure.

This cannot be happening. This cannot be fucking happening.

Clarke doesn’t know how bad the situation is or if Lexa’s injured. Her panic laced mind doesn’t even let her think about where her relationship with Lexa stands right now. It doesn’t even let her realize that maybe Lexa might be the dangerous one. Instead, it just drowns her in negative ass thoughts; _What if someone’s hurting her? What is she needs help? What if something’s majorly broken? What if she’s lying in a pool of her own blood?_ And it’s not helping her anxiety induced state when her asshole of a mind keeps on recapping all the time’s Lexa’s been out of it, all the time’s Lexa’s gotten seriously injured, all the times Lexa’s been sent to the ER. That shit just makes Clarke ignore her friends’ shouting from behind her, and move faster.

When Clarke finally gets to the front, her blue eyes go wide. She stops so abruptly that Octavia and Raven almost ram into her back.

Her green eyed brunette is violently beating on bloody flesh belonging to a man, a man that can’t even be recognized due to the mass amounts of red blood coating his face. With wide eyes, Clarke and her two best friends watch as Lexa’s blood soaked fists slip against bloody cheekbones, the blood making it hard for her hits to land perfectly.

Clarke’s temporary paralysis and shock only last a second longer before she’s hastily moving forward again.

“Shit! No, Clarke! Wait!” Octavia tries to grab her but the brunette isn’t quick enough.

Clarke can smell and savor the metallic scent of blood as she continues to close the distance between her and the green eyed brunette. It’s fucked up and she knows it, but Clarke can’t help but hope that most of the blood she smells is the man’s and not Lexa’s.

Even over her suit jacket, the brunette’s back muscles can be seen as they spasm, letting Clarke know that Lexa must be using all of her strength to fuck this man up. She doesn’t know how long Lexa’s been at it, she doesn’t know if it’s been more than a few minute. She just hopes that the man is still breathing.

The deep sliced up cuts that are decorating the burly mans’s face almost make’s Clarke gasp. And that’s how she realizes that Lexa must be wearing rings.

Everyone around her are still shouting excitedly while they watch this shit unfold. Like it’s some kind of main event. They’re all entertained, not having any idea how much of a shit hole this whole situation is.

The blonde’s arm shoots out, ready to grip and pull the green eyed brunette back by the shoulder. Clarke’s only goal right now is to stop Lexa, she has to stop her before she kills the man, no matter how dangerous her duplicitous mind makes her.  
/  
_(“Don’t ever do that again! That was so fucking stupid!”_

_“I don’t understand why you’re so mad, Lexa! I practically stopped you and those men from killing each other!”_

_“You don’t understand? Really, Clarke? What if I would’ve hurt you? Did you stop and think that before you charged after me?”_

_“That didn’t happen and it won’t happen, Lex.”_

_“God dammit, Clarke! You don’t know that.”_

_“Yes, I do.”)_  
\  
Before Clarke’s fingertips can even touch the brunette’s shoulder, two strong arms wrap around her waist and pull her back and away from the scene. She roughly tries to shove and unwrap the big hands that are gripping her waist, but it’s no use. Whoever is pulling her back is a strong motherfucker.

“What the fuck! Let go of me!” she shouts, trying to get away from the strong hold. “What are you doing! Let me go!”

“I can’t do that,” a familiar voice responds as she continues to be led back through the crowd. Clarke tries to twist away from the strong arms again, but only fails. She watches as the crowd encloses around them as they make way, obscuring her view of Lexa. “Bellamy, you have to let me go!”

“No I don’t,” Bellamy retorts, his hold still strong. “I’m sorry Clarke, but you know I promised her.” Clarke closes her eyes and curses Lexa and her selfishness. _God damn her._

Bellamy nods towards Octavia as he lets go of Clarke, and his younger sister nods back. The younger brunette grabs Clarke’s arms at the same time Anya and Lincoln come running down the stairs, clearly getting the bartender’s message late. Bellamy immediately trails after Anya and Lincoln and Clarke rapidly tries to follow but Octavia’s vice like grip on her arms halt the her from doing so. “Octavia, let me go!” she growls out, but the brunette only shakes her head with some contrition. “Just let me go! Octavia, she won’t hurt me!”

“You don’t know that, Clarke,” Raven says as she raises her voice over the loud crowd. She stands in front of her blonde friend before continuing. “They got this, Clarke. She’s going to be fine.” Raven tries to reason with Clarke but Clarke doesn’t want to see reason, she _can’t_ see reason. Not when she just witnessed Lexa at loss of herself. So Clarke tries to whither away again, but Octavia’s strong grip around both of her arms still restrains her from doing so.

“Fuck! Just-please. Please let me go,” she pleads, unsettling anxiety making an appearance in both her face and her voice as it wavers. She can’t stop thinking about all the blood. “She needs me right now. Lexa needs- Please! She’s going to kill him!”

Octavia looks at Raven for an answer and the Latina gives her a sad look before shaking her head no, denying Clarke her request. The brunettes know that Lexa is not herself when she loses control. The whole gang has witnessed it enough times to know how bad it can be. And if something were to happen to Clarke, Raven and Octavia wouldn’t be able to forgive themselves, knowing they could’ve stopped her. And as much as it hurts to see Clarke so desperate and so full of anguish, they have to stand their ground.

They’ve all heard and seen the countless arguments Clarke and Lexa have engaged in when the blonde has broken up plenty of rage filled fights between the green eyed brunette and random strangers. Lexa has yelled and reprimanded the blonde many times, telling her that her stupidity could get her hurt, but Clarke has always ignored her, caring more about the brunette’s safety than her own. Just like now.

But what Clarke has always failed to see, is that if Lexa were to ever hurt her, the brunette would never forgive herself. Which is why Lexa made Bellamy promise to make sure Clarke doesn’t do stupid shit (like try and stop a fight) whenever she’s out of it.

-

“Move you piece of shit!” Anya growls as she roughly shoves a big ass man out of her way, the poor dude barely manages to brace himself against his buddy.

Lincoln and Bellamy are beside the furious blonde woman doing the same thing, pushing and shoving people as they try to make way. Both the siblings and Bellamy aren’t giving a single fuck about who they’re knocking over, because right now they’re trying their hardest to get to Lexa before she kills whoever is on the other end of her revolting fire.

Anya and Lincoln just hope they’re not to late.

But from the way the crowd is practically yelling in excitement, it seems like they are.

Only minutes ago were they upstairs drinking with their friends. They were both calmly having a good time when the new bartender Anya hired started stuttering out that Lexa was about to fuck someone up. Their drinks were ignored and pushed aside as they immediately began barreling down the stairs.

When “ _boss, your sister is about to fight someone_ ” had come out of the newbie bartender’s mouth, Anya’s stomach immediately curled. Her sister was her responsibility tonight, her priority, and she legit forgot about her in just the first hour they were here. Anya knew her sister drinking was a big ass fucking risk, but she told herself that she would watch over her so that she could have a good time because Lexa clearly needed it.

But now here she was, guilt eating her up as she shoved random ass people out of the way, trying to get to Lexa. All because she couldn’t be a good sister, all because she royally fucked up.

“Lincoln, be ready to grab her!” Anya shouts as they finally manage to clear the way and get to the front of the crowd. “You too Bell.”

The two men nod, and when Lincoln sets sight on his little sister, he can’t help the, _'oh fuck'_  that comes out his mouth. The splotchy mess of red, dark blood staining Lexa’s shirt sends a sudden jolt of panic and fear through him. He doesn’t know if the blood on her dress shirt is her own, or Emerson’s.

Lincoln doesn’t know which is worse.

Without wasting any time, he gives Anya and Bellamy a sharp nod and immediately makes his way forward. When he’s close enough to hear his sister’s weary grunts, Lincoln does the first thing that comes to mind. Using his arms, he shoves Lexa off the battered man and watches as she clumsily stumbles off of him.

They’ve all been training together since they were kids. Lincoln knows the way his sisters’ dance, how they react, how they hit. So when Lexa quickly recovers and gets up, Lincoln shows no sign of surprise.

Lexa’s long lean legs are already moving on their own, and as she blankly makes her way towards Lincoln, the bald man uses this time to see the extents of her injuries.

A bleeding nose, a busted lip, a nasty gash above her left eyebrow, and obvious torn up knuckles. God, if she’s this fucked up, Lincoln can only imagine how much worse the unconscious man must be. Lincoln wants to make sure the man’s alive as much as he wants to make sure his sister’s okay. But that’s impossible at the moment. Because Lexa’s eyes are wild and she’s coming at him full force and Lincoln knows that right now, his sister is feeling like a lion whose feeding’s been interrupted. He knows she’s not in her right state of mind. He knows she doesn’t know what she’s doing. He knows her disorder has psyched her. He knows that it’s won her over.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lincoln notices movement. He quickly turns his gaze to the side and watches as Anya carefully makes her way behind Lexa. The blonde woman tries to wrap her arms around her sister - key word, tries - but Lexa sensing movement, turns around right before Anya can even touch her, and before the blonde can even react, Lexa’s fist meets her face. The strong hit sends Anya crashing into some empty stools. Anya seriously underestimated Lexa’s perturbed state.

The green eyed brunette turns around and faces Lincoln. She cocks her head to the side and Lincoln swallows hard at her unfocused eyes and her clenched fist and her bared teeth.

Tonight wasn’t supposed to go like this. It was supposed to be a night filled with laughter and fun, not this shit fest.

Lincoln thinks she’s gonna lunge at him, attack him, but then out of the fucking blue, two strong arms come from behind Lexa and tightly encircle her body, consequently trapping her arms at her sides.

Even though they painfully take his breath away, Bellamy ignores the multiple sharp pointed elbows Lexa precisely lands over his ribs as she angrily struggles against his strong hold. Bellamy barely manages to move his head to the side in avoidance to the nasty head butt that was coming his way. Lexa continues to thrash, trying to get loose and away from his hold, but it’s useless since Bellamy’s more than determined not to let her go. However, as he moves his mouth close to her ear in attempt to tell her to calm down, Lexa takes advantage and head butts him sharply. Right on the nose.

A sickening crack quickly following.

-

It unfolds pretty fucking fast.

One moment, Bellamy’s got a hold of Lexa and the next he’s cupping his bleeding nose with his hands.

Raven’s eyes go wide and Octavia gasps, her grip on the blonde’s arms slightly faltering when she sees Lexa deliver an angled kick to her brother’s calf, the painful action sending him onto his knees.

Deciding to take advantage of this moment, Clarke easily wriggles away from Octavia’s faulty hold and hastily begins to run towards the hell of it all, not caring about the curses she receives from the people she pushes out of the way. With so much dread, the blonde watches as Lexa retracts her fist, ready to deliver a painful welt to Bellamy’s face, and knowing neither her or Lincoln will be able to stop her from punching the fuck out of the kneeling brunette, Clarke does the first thing that comes to mind, she shouts.

“Lexa!”

-

_"Lexa!"_

Instinctively, Lexa's head snaps to the side when she hears a familiar voice scream her name out in fluid desperation. Her arms relax and wantonly fall to her sides.

The crack in her inflicting flurry causes Lexa to momentarily come to back her own senses and suddenly, her vision is no longer as distorted.

Her nose scrunches up in lateral confusion when she sees Bellamy kneeling in front of her while he gropes his nose. _What the fuck?_ The wheels start to turn inside her head as she tries to decipher what in the fuck is happening. Then out of fucking nowhere, someone puts a hand on her shoulder and she can’t help but flinch wildly.

But it’s just Anya. Anya who’s looking at her with wide eyes and a busted lip. _How did that happen?_

Anya’s saying something to her but Lexa can’t hear her. There’s just an incessant ringing in her ears. All she can do is watch as Anya’s lips rapidly move.

Why can’t she hear anything? What the hell is going on?

Her already erratic breathing increases tenfold as panic starts to seep through. It only get’s worse when her green eyes land on the crowd that seems to surround her as they stare. Some looking frightened and some looking amazed.

Anya’s cupping her cheeks now, trying to tell her something but Lexa can’t stop staring at the people who are looking at her. Her scrambled mind can’t process what’s going on. She still doesn’t know what the fuck is happening. All she knows is that her older sister is shaking her and looking at her with so much worry in her wide brown eyes.

And suddenly she can’t take it anymore. It’s too overwhelming, it’s too fucking much. She pushes Anya away, and her strength is so vivid that it almost makes her older sister fall.

As she runs out of the club’s back exit, Lexa doesn’t hear the way Clarke’s yelling out her name, practically screaming it.

-

_Please don’t be dead, please don't be dead._

Rushing towards the battered man, Clarke kneels down beside him, turns him onto his side and presses two firm fingers against his pulse point, all while she keeps her eyes glued to the club’s back door where Lexa exited. She’s not paying attention to the chaos that seems to be going around her.

(Anya’s staring at the same place where Clarke is. Her shoulder’s slumped in defeat as she puts her hands on her head.)

(Octavia is scolding Bellamy for touching his nose and for trying to be a hero, all while he tries not to let the stinging pain overtake him.)

(Raven is making her way towards her girlfriend, hoping that she can comfort her and calm her down before she goes ape shit.)

Clarke let’s out a loud sigh of relief as the man’s pulse comes out strong. Someone kneels down next to her and she thanks all the gods that it’s Lincoln, the only other doctor she knows here. “Lincoln, can you?” she asks, motioning to the unconscious man. Lincoln nods his head and quickly lifts the man’s head carefully as he begins to examine him. His eyes widen when he makes out the man as Carl Emerson, but Clarke doesn’t notice because she’s already getting up.

Wasting no time, she runs after Lexa, but not before hearing Lincoln’s cracked _'what did you do, Lex?'_

-

Lexa stumbles into the empty alleyway. She barely manages to brace herself against the brick wall before she loses sense of actuality.

Heat, that’s the first thing Lexa feels when her palms make contact with the cold alley wall. It’s starts off warm before turning into a simmering sensation. In her legs, in her arms, in her stomach, in her head, fucking everywhere.

Her mind is throwing blanks and she doesn’t know what the fuck is happening to her. She has no idea that both her body and her mind can’t seem to process that the adrenaline she was thriving on earlier is still lively making it’s way through her veins. There’s a war going on inside of her head, one that’s trying - and failing - to keep her sane.

Lexa pushes herself off the wall and turns around before she starts pacing. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The clench in her stomach and the chill down her spine tells her that’s something is coming. She doesn’t know what it is but yet she tries to will it away, tries to keep her hands from trembling.

She curls up her hands in attempt to stop them from shaking but instead she feels that _something_ again, this time it’s roaring, and in a second, she brings her fists to meet the hard brick wall.

_One time._  
_Two times._  
_Three times._  
_Four times._

Her eyes trip on their own when she focuses of the dark, red liquid that’s dripping from her hands. It’s so red and so dark that she has to convince herself that it’s not blood, it can’t be.

Tears are staining her cheeks now and she doesn’t understand why she feels so angry, why she’s fucking crying. Her legs are weak and shaking as she uses her fist to jab at her stomach, willing her lungs to fucking do something because suddenly she can’t breathe. Her breaths are coming out too fast and in big gasping breaths.

It’s all too overwhelming, it’s all too fucking much.

Reeling backwards, Lexa’s back hits the alley wall with a thud, and slowly, she finds herself sliding against the cold brick wall, the feeling of it cooling her burning back. She pulls her knees up to her chest and lets her head fall on top of them as she continues to feel everything crush her.

“Please, stop. Please, stop. Please, stop.”

She begs her pleas aloud, not knowing who she’s begging to. She closes her eyes tightly against the growing darkness and feels a heavy weight settle over her chest, making her gasp more violently for air.

It’s like she’s drowning.

  
Lexa doesn’t know how long she’s been under when feels something tease the back of her neck. It’s like something’s trying to tug her out of this heaviness she’s suffocating in. Then she hears something, something that’s not her wheezing breaths or her beating heart.

It’s faint but it’s there.

_“Lexa, come on baby. I know you can hear me. Breathe for me.”_

The more she focuses on the homely voice and the gritty feeling on her neck, the more she wants to open her eyes, but she finds herself not being able to. Her eyelids feel heavy and she’s still drowning, she’s still suffocating in abhorrent depths of blood-curdling darkness. She still doesn’t know what’s happening to her, she just knows that she’s scared, that she’s so fucking scared and just wants to be reeled out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (highkey this is a sloppy ass chapter.)  
> it’s intense how the aftermath of an ied crash has some parallels to an anxiety attack and a panic attack. this chapter wasn't supposed to be this short, but my bitchass didn't finish writing it, so there's gonna be a part 3. also, ill try to update as fast as i can.  
> take care homies.  
> twitter: @lexagriff
> 
> \- kay


	11. The Blame Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the blame game pt 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been 84 years. shit, I'm fucking terrible at this.
> 
> this chapter is really fucking short, but I'm posting the rest soon instead of today because my friends are being a bad influence tonight and i wanna be influenced lmao. 
> 
> i honestly almost forgot to post this today (which i did because it's past 12am but shhh).

_Reeling backwards, Lexa’s back hits the alley wall with a thud, and slowly, she finds herself sliding against the cold brick wall, the feeling of it cooling her burning back. She pulls her knees up to her chest and lets her head fall on top of them as she continues to feel everything crush her._

_“Please, stop. Please, stop. Please, stop.”_

_She begs her pleas aloud, not knowing who she’s begging to. She closes her eyes tightly against the growing darkness and feels a heavy weight settle over her chest, making her gasp more violently for air._

_It’s like she’s drowning._

_Lexa doesn’t know how long she’s been under when feels something tease the back of her neck. It’s like something’s trying to tug her out of this heaviness she’s suffocating in. Then she hears something, something that’s not her wheezing breaths or her beating heart._

_It’s faint but it’s there. “Lexa, come on baby. I know you can hear me. Breathe for me."_

_The more she focuses on the homely voice and the gritty feeling on her neck, the more she wants to open her eyes, but she finds herself not being able to. Her eyelids feel heavy and she’s still drowning, she’s still suffocating in abhorrent depths of blood-curdling darkness. She still doesn’t know what’s happening to her, she just knows that she’s scared, that she’s so fucking scared and just wants to be reeled out._

 

-

 

 

The cold concrete is bruising her pale knees, but Clarke can’t bring herself to care as she kneels in front of the trembling brunette, the trembling brunette who’s struggling to breathe.

“Lexa, baby, I’m right here. Talk to me, please.”

Keeping the hand that’s gripping Lexa’s neck, secured— she uses the other to hold the handkerchief she found in Lexa’s breast pocket to put pressure over the bleeding wound above the brunette’s eyebrow. The gash she is currently succoring is the only cut she’s deemed the most alarming since it’s where most of the blood that’s trailing down Lexa’s face is oozing from (even though it’s just one of the many cuts littering Lexa’s face).

When Clarke came busting out of the club’s back door exit, she frantically began to look around the dark alley, hoping to all the gods that Lexa hadn’t ran off. Because due to similar situations in the past, Lexa has been known to flee a scene involuntarily, her feet dragging her on their own. Sometimes Lexa would end up a couple of streets down or sometimes just three blocks away. Thankfully though, Lexa hadn’t run off this time and Clarke found the brunette sitting on her ass with her knees tight against her chest, squished tightly in between two garbage cans. Clarke was more than relieved to find Lexa there but that relief quickly dwindled when she saw that Lexa was full on having a breakdown.

The signs were prominent and on full display. With her eyes tightly shut, Lexa’s breathing was coming out in short shallow gasps while her head banged against the wall, bleeding hands clenched at her sides. Without giving any thought to it, Clarke had immediately rushed forward, getting on her hands and knees to grip the brunette’s neck in order to stop her from hitting her head against the alley’s brick wall. Her first touch caused the brunette to flinch violently, like if Clarke’s touch physically hurt her. Clarke pretended the action didn’t hurt _her_ and forced her grip on Lexa’s neck.

“Lexa,” she now says, voice purposely calm and gentle. “Listen to me, listen to my voice baby.” Clarke knows what Lexa’s feeling or at least to a certain point. She knows what it feels like to be lost in your own mind, even though it’s been years since she’s had an attack of her own. And for one moment, it occurs to her that perhaps Lexa doesn’t want her there, because of what she did to her. But there’s no extra spike in the brunette’s erratic breathing when she speaks and Clarke can breathe again.

The brunette suddenly heaves out a loud, racked out cough in between her paining gasps and Clarke is no longer worried; she’s scared. Her treacherous mind keeps on reminding her of the many times the brunette has passed out during times like this, the many times she has had to watch helplessly as Lexa slowly suffocated herself into a deep sleep. But tonight is not going to be one of those times. She won’t allow it at all. “Listen,” Clarke says again, and using her nails, she rakes the back of the brunettes neck with slight force, knowing the feeling is one that helps Lexa come back to it, to her. “I’m right here, Lexa. And it’s okay, you’re okay.” With her shaking hand, she let’s go of Lexa’s handkerchief (blood no longer oozing out of control) and uses her now free hand to swipe away a lost strand of blonde hair that’s sticking to her forehead, accidentally leaving a trail of red blood on said skin.

Her pleading words are still getting no reaction from the brunette— Lexa’s eyes are still tightly shut as she continues to gasp for air, and the lump in Clarke’s throat tightens. She knows Lexa is in another place right now, exposed and so vulnerable to whatever is pulling her under. Lexa’s drowning right in front of her and she can’t help but feel so hopeless and so useless. She leans in, risking getting even more closer, and moves her hand to grip Lexa’s wrist, avoiding her hands — knowing those spots are a _no_ _touch_ _zone_ when Lexa is like this, it makes Lexa even more jumpy and sometimes even violent — and puts Lexa’s hand on her chest, right over her own heart.

The action get’s a reaction. Lexa grips her dress right where her hand is positioned and Clarke feels her heart beats hitting Lexa’s warm hand.

Closer now — with the realization that Lexa can hear her — she presses her forehead against Lexa’s sweaty one. “Feel my heartbeat, Lex,” she tells her, her voice a whisper, and Lexa’s fisted grip pushes against her chest obediently. Clarke slides her hand up the brunette's own chest, pushing her palm against Lexa’s heart (where she feels the brunette’s own heart’s rapid thumping).

“Do you feel it? Slow and even. It’s just you and me, baby,” Clarke breathes out, comforting. “I want you to breathe with me now, okay?”

Lexa is still shaking, still gasping, but the whimpering and the rough heaving of her chest have stopped. It’s a good sign, of course, but Clarke knows she still has to to slow down Lexa’s breathing, regulate it, because from the looks of it, Lexa’s on the verge of passing out.

Doing what she can, she leans in, cheek to fucking cheek, and whispers into Lexa’s smol ear.

“Please, breathe with me. Breathe, baby.”

She takes a deep breath and Lexa tries to copy, inhaling wetly and exhaling roughly. Clarke says nothing and continues.

They’re like that for a long ass fucking time; Clarke’s forehead on Lexa’s sweaty one, and after some time, Lexa is able to slow down her breathing, mimicking Clarke’s, and her heartbeat returns to something more normal, to something more regulated. Clarke does not move an inch though, she does not move from the position they’re in. The brunette is the one who does.

Lexa pushes herself back a bit, till she’s face to face with her and she opens her eyes. Clarke watches as she blinks a few times, green eyes darting from where her hand is on Clarke’s chest to down the cold and dark alley, before snapping back to Clarke’s face.

“Lex? Are you okay?”

Lexa blinks some more and Clarke watches her with a small relieved smile, waiting for an answer, something to placate her anxiety filled head and her shaking hands.

But then Lexa’s green eyes land on her forehead — where she’s unaware of the smeared blood — and she can pinpoint the exact moment Lexa’s brain comes awake with realization.

And it’s so fucking abrupt, something she did not expect and she does not get get an answer.

Something changes in Lexa’s expression, in her demeanor, and her eyes go wide, quickly filled with something akin to fear. And Clarke sees the change happen, sees as Lexa’s green eyes are suddenly far from comforted just as her breathing suddenly becomes ragged and fast. “No, no, no, no! Lexa!” she firmly puts her hands on Lexa’s chest, feeling how fast and hard the brunette’s heart is suddenly racing and she is now aware that if Lexa does not calm down, this won’t end well. “Just look at me! Look at me!” Her unsteady voice rises unintentionally as she feels her own anxiety exude through. They were good. It was all good! What the fuck happened? “Lexa, can you hear me?” Lexa’s eyes are on her face, but they’re _not_ , green eyes glossy and unfocused. Her knees bump against Lexa’s as she tries to scoot even closer to the brunette, before she let’s her forehead fall against Lexa’s sweaty one again. “Lexa, please.”

Lexa’s mouth opens, forced, eyes wide. “Clarke,” she croaks out.

-

Clarke.

That’s the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes. The blonde and her blue eyes are staring right at her, a relieved smile on Clarke’s face. And she can feel herself breathing freely again because she’s no longer in some dark fucking void. No, her eyes are open and she’s with Clarke and Clarke’s with her and she can fucking breathe.

As she looks around, she realizes that she doesn’t know where she’s at. She’s not stupid, she knows what she just experienced was another attack, a brutal one. But somehow the feeling of Clarke’s beating heart against her hand makes her forget to ask what the fuck happened, makes her forget to search for a reason, one to why she’s sitting in an alley in between two garbage cans.

“Lex?” she hears Clarke ask. Her eyes snap back to the blonde, her blue eyes pained with nothing but worry. “Are you okay?” Lexa opens her mouth and she wants to say _yes_ , she wants to say _yes_ _I’m_ _okay_ , but the words get stuck in her throat when her eyes catch a glimpse of something red, something that seems so familiar, smeared across Clarke’s forehead. Her eyes adjust, focusing on the red streak and…

Blood. It’s fucking blood.

And that’s all it takes for it to hit her, all of it— like a fucking truck.

_“I heard your mother was quite the generous giver.”_  
_“A whore daughter just like her whore mother.”_

_Emerson under her, taking her plummeting fist like a champ._  
_Emerson coughing up blood while he tried not to suffocate on it._  
_Emerson trying to beg as she grinned over his broken and bloody form._

_Fist slipping on cheekbones that were to wet for her hits to land._  
_Bones cracking under her curled up fist._

_No, no, no._

She shakes her head rapidly. She doesn’t hear Clarke asking her what’s wrong, but she does feel herself shaking.

_What the fuck did I do?_

Emerson’s bloody face doesn’t leave her head, she wants it gone but it’s suddenly haunting her in her sudden wake and her chest starts to constrict almost painfully.

“Just look at me! Look at me!” she hears Clarke’s voice ring in and her eyes are unfocused once more, realizing so when Clarke’s face comes to her in blobs of blur. The blobs of blur get closer and she suddenly feels Clarke’s forehead against her own. “Lexa, can you hear me?” Lexa can and she tries to force words out of her mouth when she finds herself being unable to nod, concentrating on giving Clarke an answer instead of the pain she’s suddenly feeling deep in her throat.

“Lexa, please,” Clarke begs.

“Clarke…” Is all she manages to say. Her hoarse voice cuts itself off when she frighteningly realizes the that pain she’s feeling deep in her throat is from the lack of air.

Moving abruptly, she hits her head against the back of the brick wall as she tries to greedily swallow some air but only ends up drowning in it instead. Flailing in panic, she’s unable to stop herself from choking on nothing. Clarke’s gripping her neck again, harder this time and on instinct she tries to push away from her. But Clarke’s grip doesn’t relent, does not falter. Lexa does not realize Clarke’s doing it to stop her from hitting her head again.

“Lexa! It’s okay!” Clarke’s voice booms in. “I promise it’s okay!” She wants to protest against Clarke’s words, laugh even. Because how is it okay? How is _she_ okay? Emerson is probably dead or dying and she can’t fucking breathe. Her hands are tainted in fucking blood. Again. She can smell it, she can feel it’s stickiness on her knuckles, on her hands, on her face. Why can’t she control herself? Why can’t she be fucking normal for once? She doesn’t want to be like this anymore, she doesn’t want to _want_ to hurt anyone anymore— and no matter how hard she tries to verbalize this to Clarke, her words get caught in her throat with each breath she forgets to take.

The less she breathes the more dizzy she starts to become.

There’s no control over her body, _again_.

“Lexa, stop!” Clarke’s voice is barely audile over her struggle. Her breathing quickening into choking rasps as she tries to stand, to move. Her body, not being able to function as she suffocates, topples over instead. However, she doesn’t fall. Something catches her and she clings to it for dear life, pleading with ever breath she can manage. Arms come up around her back and slowly pull her down towards the floor. The blonde’s lithe form over her and blue eyes casted in worry, somehow comfort her. “Don’t force yourself. You have to breathe baby, breathe. I’m right here, you’re okay and you’re safe but you have to breathe.” They’re small words the blonde gives her, but for some reason Lexa _does_ feel safe. Her mind is still reeling with some sort of fear, with some sort of anger, with some sort of anxiety. But now, there’s something anchoring her, grounding her, something that makes her ignore all the shit that’s making her blood boil, that’s making her body shake.

It’s Clarke. _I’m right here, you’re okay._ And as cliche as it sounds, Lexa digs into her brain, searching for happy thoughts, happy memories, just something to lesson her fucking breakdown, something to accompany Clarke’s soothing words.

She’s not surprised what she finds. She’s not surprised what her mind throws at her.

_(No one would be)_

Clarke’s smile, Clarke’s laugh, Clarke’s lips, Clarke’s kisses— all plague her mind now, not Emerson bleeding under her.

It reassures her. It relaxes her, and she feels like she isn’t in that danger she felt she was drowning in anymore, so she tries to focus on her breathing, ignoring the way her panicked driven mind forced her hands to grip Clarke’s shoulders in support.

A strong and steady palm travels back and forth across the small of her back and she gives in to the feeling, timing her breathing with every movement the palm makes.

“That’s right, baby. Breathe.”

It feels like long minutes have passed when she hears Clarke hum quietly, pausing every now and then to tell her that everything is okay. Lexa can feel her circulation evening out again, her blood thrumming warmly through her body and the panic laced adrenaline begins to float away.

The fear she no longer feels has been replaced with exhaustion. All of the hours of missed sleep that began piling up when Clarke decided to walk away and never come back, are starting to drain her of her energy and her minuscule emotions. She feels Clarke wrap her arms around her shoulders and she lets her eyes flutter close against Clarke’s throat, the blonde’s hand idly stroking the nape of her neck.

Clarke is offering her security she’s rarely experienced before, and even though a small part of her wants to push her away because of all the pain she put her through these past few days — she knows that she needs it, because pulling away from Clarke would only cause her body more distress, more than before. Give the ‘ _body_ ’ what it wants, right? 

“Fuck, you scared me so bad,” she hears Clarke whisper into her shoulder, the blonde’s voice cracking as she trembles and Lexa finally manages to wrap her own arms around the blonde’s waist. Clarke tightens her arms around her in return, and Lexa feels a warm and wet sensation soak up her shoulder, right through her thin shirt.

She hears Clarke’s shuddering breathe, before she hears her cry.

It hurts her more than Emerson’s punches did.

“Hey, I’m okay,” she murmurs, “I’m okay.” She repeats it over and over and over and it’s not for herself, no.

She repeats it until the blonde is no longer shaking against her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be lit-er?  
> t's called blame game for a reason.  
> these two are finally going to talk (argue) and maybe the slow burn finally won't be slow, eheh  
> and there's also going to be a side of ranya and linctavia because jess said please.  
> take care homies!
> 
> harass me on twitter @ lexagriff


	12. The Blame Game Pt2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> . everyone is guilt stricken  
> . somebodies have rough s**  
> . who's preggo  
> . bellamy just wants to sleep but so does octavia  
> . lexa is confused like ten times in this  
> . clarke ends up doing something lit on accident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning:  
> \- this is a mess don't read  
> \- some choking  
> \- some blood play  
> (everything is consensual)

After making sure the front door is locked, Clarke carefully wraps her arm around Lexa, situates Lexa’s other arm around her shoulder’s and gently walks the brunette in the direction of the big ass bathroom, the one inside Lexa’s bedroom.

“I can get there myself, Clarke.” _Liar_.

“I know you can.” _Liar_. “Just humor me.”

As soon as both women had climbed into the brunette’s black r8 and began their tension filled drive home, the adrenaline in the brunette’s body began to wear off completely, meaning that Lexa was finally beginning to feel everything. Every punch, every kick, every bruise and every cut that Emerson inflicted on Lexa, was now under a bright spotlight— all while the blonde’s mind started to pain her in a different way.

Guilt, remorse, and regret all took turns jabbing Clarke in the head and in the heart as she drove. Lexa wasn’t speaking to her at all. She wouldn’t even chance her a glance. And that only made Clarke’s guilt, sorrow, and regret, spike up like a motherfucker. Clarke didn’t know if Lexa was mad at her. But she knew she had to be. It would only make sense because strangely enough, the distance Clarke decided to put between them did nothing to clear her mind, it only made them grow apart. But Lexa was so still and so quiet as they drove home. Her face was neutral, giving Clarke no signs of being mad.

Like now.

Clarke sits Lexa down on top of the toilet’s seat and after stripping the brunette down to only her boxers, she murmurs a soft but stern, “don’t move.” Lexa nods, but immediately stills her head and then grimaces as though she wished she hadn’t moved her head at all. Her palm automatically reaches up to put pressure against her forehead, but the reflective action only causes her to groan in pain since her calloused palm accidentally rubs the open and stinging gash above her eye brow.

“Don’t do that.” Clarke grabs the brunette’s wrist and pulls it away. With a furrowed brow, she then notices the way Lexa’s lips start to move almost rhythmically. She realizes that Lexa’s counting, trying not to let the pain she’s feeling trigger something she doesn’t want out of the bag again. Maybe this is way worse than it looks. “Shit, Lexa. How bad?” she asks as she runs a hand along Lexa’s shoulder, trying to comfort her, ease her. “Do we need a hospital?”

Letting her head rest against the wall, Lexa only takes in a few breaths, her eyes closed. It only makes Clarke worry even more and she finds herself ready to take Lexa to the nearest hospital.

“Lexa? Hey, talk to me.”

Before they stumbled into the loft, Lexa assured her that her injuries weren’t that serious and that they would eventually fade into bruises or small scars. Clarke believed her because Lexa’s been through this shit before.

But now Clarke’s no longer so sure and she reaches for Lexa’s discarded clothes. But then Lexa finally responds.

“It’s bearable,” her reply comes as she opens her eyes. “No hospital.”

“Lexa—“

“I’m fine, Clarke,” Lexa snaps unintentionally, then takes a breather and replies once more, quieter and softer. “Sorry, I’m— I’m fine. I promise.”

Narrowing her eyes a bit, Clarke’s reluctant to agree, worried that its worse than it looks. But eventually she withdraws and obliges to no hospital, knowing Lexa is aware of her own limits.

“Alright,” she recedes, sighing as she stands. “Just, don’t move, please.” Making her way out of the bathroom and to the inside of Lexa’s bedroom, Clarke grabs a suture kit and a first aid kit from Lexa’s closet. To say that they’ve already been through this is an understatement. Apart from professional suture kits and first aid kits, Clarke also has a bottle of pain killers in Lexa’s apartment. “For emergencies,” she mutters bitterly to herself. “Right.”

Even though it’s a sick thought, Clarke thinks that this should feel familiar and easy. Except it doesn’t. This time, something is different and it’s suddenly nagging at Clarke.This—Lexa going off—has not happened in a very long time. Self control is something Lexa has mastered in and everyone knows that, especially Clarke. Which makes it all the stranger. The last time Lexa broke out of her neat-slated state was two years ago, and it wasn’t even as bad as tonight was. It only consisted of Lexa trading a couple of blows with a stranger and leaving the bar with empty and weak threats.

It was nothing, nothing— compared to earlier’s incident.

(Lexa’s clothes had not been soaked in blood that night.  
Lexa had not been groaning and moaning in pain that night.  
Lexa had not left the club limping and hugging her side that night.  
Lexa, most definitely, had not ignored Clarke’s watchful and worried-filled gaze, _that night_.)

In the alley, when she was holding Lexa’s hair back while the brunette vomited, Clarke tried her hardest to find a reasonable and steady reason to why Lexa would’ve derailed so violently the way she did. Lexa has walked away from people who have already taken the first punch. Lexa has walked away from people who have shamed everything about her. Lexa has walked away from _worse_. So Clarke immediately knew there was something different about this ‘time’. She tried to blame it on the whiskey she could smell on Lexa, though. Tired to blame it on the stress she convinced herself Lexa was having at work. But deep down Clarke knew that they were all bullshit excuses, all bullshit excuses she tried to make herself believe in order to evade the feeling she was being overwhelmed with. The feeling of guilt.

Deep down Clarke knows the real reason why tonight happened.

Because here’s the thing about guilt. Guilt is a bitchass feeling you can’t control. You can’t make yourself feel guilty and you sure as shit can’t make yourself not feel guilty either. That shit is an automatic response to a deviated situation and now, the fucking guilt is gnawing at her, fucking eating at her. So yeah, deep down she knows the real reason why tonight happened. The guilt, the mangling guilt that’s beating inside of her only proves it. (Just like the glare Anya sent her way as they drove away from the club proved it.)

Clarke wonders if God is preparing an elaborate punishment for her. Because that shit goes like this: an eye for a fucking eye. She feels like it’s only fair for some shit to happen to her. She feels likes it only fair for Lexa to give her the cold shoulder right back. It’s only just, is it not? So low-key, she’s waiting, laying on a metaphorical bed of nails, swimming in a metaphorical sea of glass, just anticipating what’s to come and what she’s about to let happen.

“Clarke,” she hears Lexa call from inside the bathroom, her voice a pained croak. “I don’t feel so good.”

Clarke grips both kits in her arms and rushes back into the bathroom, swallowing all the shit she’s feeling and storing it for later, for when Lexa isn’t fucked up and bleeding.

By the time she gets to her, Lexa is barely moving and Clarke panics immediately, thinking that maybe Lexa wasn’t being her usual dramatic self. But then, as if sensing her panicking discord, Lexa turns to her and nods reassuringly, or at least tries to— then smiles with bloody teeth and everything. The smile doesn’t reach her eyes and Clarke ignores the small pang she suddenly feels in her chest. (She tells herself it has nothing to do with the fact that Lexa’s never given her an artificial smile.)

“Okay, Lexa,” Clarke murmurs as she kneels in front of the brunette and begins to open the first aid kit along with the suture kit. “Don’t fuss or I’ll have to put you down,” she jokes to lighten the mood. Lexa scoffs softly, as if to say you can try, before her face twists into one of pain. Clarke grimaces. She opens her mouth to apologize, when the phone that’s perched on the sink begins to vibrate, _again_. Lexa glances at it before grabbing it and turning it off. Clarke didn't miss the “ **13 Missed Calls** ” and the “ **9 New Messages** ” that was on the phone’s screen. “Who was it?” she asks as she starts to take out the shit she’ll need out of the first aid kit.

“Anya and Lincoln,” Lexa murmurs plainly, acting like it’s not bothering her but Clarke can see right through her ass and she knows it’s affecting her.

“You don’t want to talk to them?”

“I fucked up tonight,” Lexa says with a small shake of her head and then her face falls for only a second as she says, “I hurt them.”

“It was an accident. They know it and I’m sure they’re worried about you.”

Lexa says nothing and mildly lifts her chin up, as if to say she’s done with this conversation. So Clarke decides not to prod any further and begins to patch Lexa up, which that itself is an easy job.

Lexa doesn’t flinch when Clarke wipes her face and knuckles with antiseptic wipes, even though they sting like a motherfucker. She doesn’t move a single muscle when Clarke pulls in two stitches on the small gash above her eye brow, even though it feels like her skin is being torn. Lexa doesn’t even groan or moan in pain when Clarke puts pressure on every single bruise Emerson caused, even though she feels like the pain Clarke’s causing is making her want to punch the tiled wall.

The entire time, Lexa’s gaze is set towards Clarke as the blonde watches her work.

Lexa’s casted look is a strange one, one that scares Clarke. It scares her because she can’t decipher what she sees in Lexa’s set jaw or her dull eyes, and Clarke can read Lexa like an open book. That’s something she’s never had trouble doing. It’s also something her friends make fun of her for. Because by a single and plain look Lexa gives or sends off to someone— no matter how impassive or weak —Clarke can always tell what Lexa’s feeling or what she means to do. But tonight she can’t read Lexa. There’s something different in her, something Clarke can’t figure out. And it scares her.

“Come on,” she mutters as she helps Lexa stand, ignoring the _I can do it_ _myself_ protests the brunette gives her. “Let’s get you into the shower. You smell like a trauma scene.”

Clarke helps Lexa where she needs it, moving the brunette when her knees lock as she minds Lexa’s bandages and the big and purple bruises that have taken residence on Lexa’s back and abdomen. (Clarke remembers seeing the man Lexa fucked up. She remembers seeing him so broken that he was almost unrecognizable. Yet she doesn’t find herself feeling sorry for him anymore. Not when Lexa’s like this. Not when the woman she loves can barely walk. And she can’t help but hope— no matter how fucked up she knows it may be —that he’s suffering much more than Lexa is.) Clarke ends up half dragging Lexa to the shower, where she slowly lets her rest against the bathroom’s tiled wall before she starts to run a warm shower.

As they wait for the water to shade warmer, Clarke begins to strip out of her own clothes and Lexa looks down on her, still a bit out of it and suddenly confused. “Clarke,” she says. “I don’t think I can have sex right now.”

“What—no,“ Clarke splutters out as she looks back up at Lexa, feeling like someone just punched her in the chest. She shakes her head, feeling so, so shitty. “I know, Lexa. I’m not— _god_. I’m going in there with you to make sure you don’t slip and bust yourself even more or mess up your stitches.”

“No,” Lexa says stubbornly. “You don’t need to. I can shower on my own, Clarke. I am not a child.”

Clarke opens her mouth, ready to protest because Lexa barely made it to the shower, but Lexa cuts her off. “I promise,” she says. “I can take care of myself.”

Clarke can only sigh in defeat. “Alright, whatever. But call me once you’re out? I’ll re-bandage your knuckles.”

“I can also do that myself Clarke,” Lexa murmurs with a shake of her head as she begins to pull her boxers down. “If you want, you can go home now. Back to Finn. I’m fine now.”

Clarke’s eyes widen, a little ablazed, a little angry. “Are you insane? I’m not going anywhere.” _Look at you_ , she wants to say. “I’m not leaving you, Lexa.”

That look, that strange look Lexa was giving her earlier is back and Clarke glances between Lexa’s green eyes, trying to see if she can understand what Lexa’s feeling. But as soon as the look comes, it’s gone. Lexa nods with a clenched jaw, like if she’s trying to refrain herself from saying something, and closes the shower’s door, leaving Clarke standing in the middle of the bathroom with a blood stained dress, a little frozen and a little confused.

The blonde’s mind begins to whir as she starts to mull over Lexa’s dark and unspoken words, her clenched jaw, her uncharacteristic dull eyes, and her pursed lips.

That fucking look.

And _oh_.

Realization finally hits her, but not hard.

She now knows what Lexa’s feeling, knows what she couldn’t decipher before.

Lexa is angry.

And it shouldn’t feel foreign to Clarke. But it does. It does because Lexa’s anger is directed towards her.

Was she expecting any less? No. Clarke knew Lexa was mad, or at least she knew she was going to be. What she did, ignoring Lexa all those days, was really shitty even if it was justifiable in part. Lexa gets to be mad, Clarke concludes. She just hopes that tonight they get somewhere. She just hopes that tonight they can talk.

“I’ll be in the bedroom! Call me if you need any help!” Clarke raises her voice over the streaming water, before whispering to herself, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Clarke walks back into Lexa’s room and begins to change out of her bloody and tight dress, pulling out a pair of Lexa’s sweats and a loose hockey jersey from a dresser.

Sitting down on Lexa’s bed, Clarke starts to play with her fingers nervously and that’s when she realizes that she doesn’t even know what she’s going to say to Lexa once they’re alone again. She knows sorry is not going to cut it. She knows that an apology is not going to be enough, not for Lexa, and not for what she thinks she caused.

Her confusing feelings and her inhibitions not to hurt Lexa and herself only ended up hurting them both and actually separating her from Lexa.

Clarke knows that she fucked up with Lexa, knows that what she thought was best for Lexa and her, ended up being the worst thing for them. The night fucking proved that. Lexa won’t blame her for what happened, though, she knows that. Lexa likes to own up to her own fucking actions. “ _I’m an adult, Clarke. You did not put a gun to my head and tell me to beat a man. This was not on you_ ,” she’ll tell Clarke. But Clarke knows she had some part in this because consistency is a big ass part of Lexa’s life and Clarke knows she’s a constant in Lexa’s life. A constant in Lexa’s life that just decided to not be one anymore.

Her fingers begin to pull at each other almost roughly as Clarke begins to lose herself in her own head. Intrusive thoughts clouding her.

_I needed to clear my head. I needed to figure it all out,_ a part of her tries to reason. The other part of her —the one that’s jolting her relentlessly— is telling her that she was afraid of the inevitable. That she was scared of what she already knew she was feeling. She knows which part is right and deep down, she knows what she has to do in order to fix this.

Telling the brunette the truth is the fucking way to go. Telling Lexa why she couldn’t stop fucking her, why she had an outburst when she found Harper with her hand down her pants, why she tried to clear her head, and why, after tonight, she’s going to ask Finn for a divorce— is the fucking way to go. But there’s always a but. Isn’t there?

This time, the _but_ is unrequited love, the fear of it. The fear that if she tells Lexa she’s in love with her, Lexa will tell her to leave or just laugh in her face. For her, unrequited love is the definition of pain, the definition of terrifying. And even though Clarke’s heart is telling her to do it, begging her to tell Lexa the truth, Clarke knows she can’t do it. It’s a dangerous game, one that they can’t play. It’ll end in immense pain and mindless confusion and it’ll ruin their friendship or at least what’s left of it.

All Clarke can do is hope that there’s something left to salvage. Hope that her words will come out right and Lexa will forgive her. Because Lexa was, _is_ , her best friend. She always has been, way before they added sex to the mix. Clarke doesn’t want to lose her best friend. She fucking can’t. So her feelings for Lexa have to be swallowed. They have to be ignored. No matter how much it hurts her.

The door to the bathroom opens and Clarke stands as Lexa comes out of it, a cloud of steam floating behind her. She looks better than she did half an hour ago. Lexa’s still limping but there’s not a permanent wince on her face like there was before.

_We’re going to talk_ , Clarke concludes.

(Or argue.)

“You stayed,” Lexa breathes out as she limps her way towards her dresser to change, her words laced in slight surprise.

“Of course I stayed,” Clarke retorts, a little insulted. “I told you I would.” As Lexa begins dress and pull some shorts over her long legs, Clarke sees that her knuckles are neatly and perfectly bandaged and it hurts Clarke when she blindly realizes that Lexa’s been hurt enough times that she can bandage herself up like a professional MD would. Clarke thinks that now would be the perfect time to start the conversation. But when she sees Lexa wince in pain as she tries to put a shirt over her head, Clarke decides to swallow her words. For now.

“Stay here,” she tells Lexa after she helps the brunette with her shirt, and as she walks over to the bathroom, Clarke doesn’t need to turn around to know that Lexa’s glaring at her for helping her with her shirt. She rolls her eyes, _fucking pride_. “I’m going to get you some pain killers—“

“I don’t need them. I’m fine.”

Clarke ignores Lexa. “Like I was saying. I’ll be back with some pain killers and then we’re going to talk after you take them.”

Lexa growls something under her breath, something Clarke can’t make out, before she grunts in submission.

They’re going to talk.

(Or argue.)

  
 - - - - - - - - _on the other side of town_ \- - - - - - - - - 

  
The door thuds loudly as Anya slams Raven against it.

Sharp teeth biting into her newly spilt lip makes Anya whimper involuntarily. Her girlfriend apologetically tries to back out of their heated kiss but Anya’s grip on her bare ass tightens and the brunette can’t help but grind harder on Anya’s muscled thigh, a loud groan exiting her mouth.

“Anya, not on the door,” Raven pants, moaning when the blonde palms her ass harder. “Are we going slow, baby?”

After they had left TonDc, the car ride back home was quiet and full of anxious tension. Since Lexa wasn’t picking up the phone or answering her texts, Anya glared at nothing while she drove and Raven let her be, knowing her girlfriend was feeling conflicted about what happened at TonDc. Raven knew that if Anya wanted to talk about it she would. So, she didn’t prod at her girlfriend, thinking that maybe as soon as they got home, Anya would tell her what was going on inside her head.

The brunette was wrong.

Seconds after they’d stepped foot inside their home, Anya pushed Raven against the living room wall, roughly attacking her lips before stripping her bare. In between their heated kisses, Raven had suggested (panted) that they talk, but each time she did so, Anya would respond with a disapproving grunt and a hard bite to the lip. Anya didn’t want to talk and Raven knew what Anya _did_ want, what she _needed_.

When they have sex, it’s always soft and explorative, the way they both like it. They take their time touching, tasting, and teasing each other. But rare times like tonight, when bad shit goes down, Anya needs to be rough and Raven never complains, giving her girlfriend what she needs: just like when Raven has rough days at work, Anya lets her take control.

“No, we’re not going slow,” Anya grunts as she moves them from the door towards the bed, promptly shoving a naked ass Raven on it before climbing on top of her. She moves a hand between the brunette’s legs, allowing Raven to rub herself against her hand as she kisses her, moaning when her long and nimble fingers tangle in a crop of small brown hairs.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Anya breathes out, tearing her lips away from Raven’s so that she can see her girlfriend’s dark and lust-filled eyes.

“Yeah,” Raven moans out eagerly as Anya’s fingers continue to tease her, sliding through her slick folds with not enough firmness to please her. Anya’s other hand finds itself gently curled around Raven’s throat, and she looks down at Raven, a question gleaming in her eyes. The brunette nods, granting, and Anya kisses her hard, the grip on Raven’s throat no longer gentle but firm.

“I’m going to fuck you hard,” Anya threatens as she breaks from the kiss once more, and without warning, she pushes three fingers into the brunette, watching as Raven cries out in pleasure and slight pain.

Flashes of tonights incident keeps on flashing inside Anya’s head, accompanied by a voice, her own voice.

_She’s your sister. Your sister and your responsibility. Where were you? Why did you let her drink?_

Anya’s grip on her girlfriend’s throat tightens by a fraction, using it to help brace herself as she begins to thrust her fingers inside of Raven, her biceps flexing as her arm surges forward, fucking her girlfriend without mercy.

The guilt gnaws at her, splitting her in half, so Anya continues to fuck her lover, continues to drive her fingers in and out roughly, wanting to make herself feel something other than what’s starting to paralyze her.

And making her girlfriend feel good, that’s close enough.

_It was your fault. It was your fault. It was your fault._

“You like this, don’t you?” Anya growls out as the wet and sexed up sounds become louder and louder, her arm cramping as it continues to pump mercilessly.

“Fuck,” Raven moans out, her hands gripping the bed sheets tighter as her hips roll up to meet Anya’s thrusts. “Shit, baby—”

The brunette’s feeble bravado beings to fade as Anya draws her closer and closer to that glorious edge. It’s coming too quick, _she’s_ coming too quick, but the brunette’s mind is too fogged up to care, and when Anya uses her calloused thumb to rub her clit, Raven starts to moan out Anya’s name in between her whined out cries of pleasure.

_She’s hurt because of you._

“You like it when I fuck you like this, don’t you?” Anya snarls, rubbing the brunette’s clit rougher and harder, her teeth nipping and biting a sweaty neck.

Anya didn’t mean for tonight to happen. That was not even close to what she had in mind. Her little sister was wallowing, stressing, and Anya didn’t want to see her like that anymore. She just wanted to take Lexa out so that she could have a good time. A distraction and a couple of drinks was all Anya thought Lexa needed. Apparently it was all Lexa needed to lose and hurt herself. She fucked up. Anya fucked up.

“Oh!” Raven cries out — oblivious to Anya’s churning guilt — when Anya’s fingers curl in that particular spot while her teeth begin to bite down harder on her neck. “Yes! Like that—Don’t stop!”

Anya feels Raven clench around the fingers she’s thrusting furiously, so she tightens the hold she has on her girlfriend’s neck, effectively cutting some of the brunette’s flow of air. Raven’s eyes slam shut before a loud moan escapes her throat.

The brunette braces her hands on Anya’s shoulders, gripping them hard as she uses them to pull herself upward so that Anya can hit her spot deeper. “Oh _god_! I’m close,” Raven chokes out. “Fuck! Harder, baby!” Raven’s head begins to spin. She doesn’t know if its from the lack of air or from the burning heat that’s coiling down below. ready to be released. Nonetheless, the thought of passing out from Anya’s fingers alone excites the brunette even more. Her hips start to pump up more feverishly as her eyes open and lock onto Anya’s dark one’s, watching as Anya fucks her hard.

“I want you to cum,” Anya orders. “I want you to cum hard,” and just like that, the brunette comes undone.

Raven’s lips part as her back arches, her eyelids fluttering at the intensity of it all as her inner muscles clamp down on Anya’s fingers, her orgasm viciously ripping through her. “Fuck!”

As Raven’s hips continue to buck, Anya’s fingers around her throat loosen, letting her take in deeper breaths as Anya continues to pump into her slowly, easing her down from her orgasm. After a moment, Raven collapses onto the sheets, eyes wide and chest heaving. Her girlfriend leans forward and kisses her over the swells of her breasts, her collarbone, her throat and her cheeks— all while dark blobs swim around Raven’s eyes.

“Good, love?” Anya murmurs into Raven’s lips. The brunette nods, cupping her girlfriends neck before kissing her, spasming slightly when Anya’s thigh accidentally comes into contact with her sensitive heat. “It was good,” she says. Anya then collapses gently on top of her, and that’s when Raven notices Anya’s trembling a bit and Raven knows it’s not from what they just did. “Babe?” she lifts Anya’s head with her hands, and finds her girlfriend’s eyes filled with tears she’s to stubborn to spill. “Shit. Babe, talk to me,” she runs her fingers over Anya’s jaw. “Anya, what’s wrong?”

Anya doesn’t answer her. Instead Anya backs away and murmurs a quick, “I’m going to the bathroom,” before sliding out of bed.

Moments later, Raven groans when she hears Anya head into the kitchen instead of the bathroom — glasses clinking moments later — and gets out of bed, wondering why the love of her life had to be so complicated when it came to feelings and emotions. Once she’s partially dressed, Raven makes her way into the kitchen where she finds Anya sitting on the kitchen table, nursing a whiskey neat as she glares at her silver iPhone. The poor phone is trapped inside her clenched fist.

“I don’t want to talk,” the blonde murmurs as if sensing Raven’s presence and takes a sip of her drink. Raven says nothing and sits in the chair next to Anya, letting her head rest on her girlfriend’s shoulder. She waits a couple of seconds, anticipating, and her shoulders drop in relief when Anya sets the whiskey filled tumbler aside, grips her hand from under the table, and rests her head atop hers. “I don’t want to talk,” she says again, her voice shaky, and Raven squeezes her hand, burrowing her head deeper into her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Okay, baby.”

  
 - - - - - - - - _on the other other side of town_ \- - - - - - - - - 

  
Octavia is three hours deep in sleep, when the bed dips, promptly waking her ass up. Her blue eyes fly open and she watches as Lincoln sits on the edge of their bed. The man’s bald head and shoulders are dropped as he frustratingly runs a hand through his face with a broken sigh, his other hand holding his cellphone. Octavia rapidly throws the covers off her body and crawls over to her husband, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“She won’t answer me,” he says, his words almost growled.

“Talk to me," she says as she gently grabs the phone from his hand and throws it on the bed.

Lincoln slowly shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk,” he says, voice suddenly small and broken, and Octavia has to swallow the feeling of her own heart breaking. Seeing her strong and scary looking husband like this is something she never wanted to see. Especially over something that was an accident. Especially over something that he could not have stopped. And it breaks her heart. “It wasn’t your fault baby,” she whispers to him as she puts her chin on his shoulder. Lincoln doesn’t respond, stiff as a stick, eyes set on the floor, and Octavia tightens her arms around him. “Listen to me, Lincoln Woods. What happened was not your fault. Okay?”

“Can you go with me tomorrow? I want to see her,” Lincoln says instead of agreeing with her, and the brunette sighs, knowing he won’t be talking about what he’s feeling anytime soon.

Octavia isn’t even surprised. He barely talked when they left the TonDc (went to the hospital with Bellamy, and went straight home).

Before they left the club, both Lincoln and Anya wanted to see Lexa. They wanted to talk to their sister to make sure she was okay. But Lexa didn’t have the same idea, sending the blonde to tell them that she was tired and in pain and that she just wanted to go home. But Clarke then told them, words whispered, that Lexa was mad at herself for what she let happen— because she was— and that she would talk to them when she could. Even Bellamy, who was dead as fuck, bleeding and concussed, assured him that Lexa wasn’t holding anything against him or Anya. But he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help but think that Lexa didn’t want to speak with either of them because she blamed them.

_( “I changed my mind Anya. I don’t want to go anymore. I’ll just stay home and—”_

_“No, come on, Lexa! You promised! Even Lincoln is coming and he wants you to go. Right, Linc?”_

_“Yeah, Lex. Come on.”_

_“Fine, but only because Lincoln is going.” )_

“Of course I’ll go with you, Linc,” Octavia murmurs, giving her husband a small kiss on the neck. “We can tell Lexa about the baby too,” she suggests, trying to lighten Lincoln’s mood. “I know you were planning on telling her tonight.”

A small smile creeps up on Lincoln’s face as he cranes his neck to look at his wife. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes but Octavia keeps her mouth shut, knowing Lexa will fix this tomorrow. _"Stop being an idiot,"_ Lexa will tell him. Octavia is sure of it.

“I like that idea,” he says quietly. Octavia slides back onto her side of the bed and pats the side next to her, Lincoln’s side. He stands up and takes a small sip of the glass of water on his bedside before joining his wife. “We’ll be able to tell Clarke too. I’m sure she’ll be there,” Lincoln tells Octavia as he lays down.

“Mmm, you’re right.”

“And Raven.”

“Raven?”

“Yeah,” Lincoln mumbles. “Knowing Anya, she’ll be there first thing tomorrow morning. And if she’s going, then—“

“Raven will be going too,” Octavia finishes. “I guess we’ll tell them all there then.”

It’s moments later when they’re settled in bed together— Octavia’s head on Lincoln’s chest while he rubs her belly —when something dawns on Octavia, making her blurt out, “Oh my god, Clarke is going to kill me!”

Lincoln, who was finally seconds away from passing out, mumbles, “why would blondie kill you?”

“Me and Rae literally grabbed her when she tried to stop Lexa. She was really angry when we wouldn’t let her go.”

“But you did the right thing baby. If Lexa hurt Anya and Bellamy, she could’ve hurt Clarke too.”

“Yeah I know,” Octavia sighs, her stomach curling in nerves. “But still, she’s going to kill me.” Octavia knows she did the right thing. But if she would’ve been in Clarke’s shoes and Lincoln was the one fighting, Octavia would’ve been so angry if they stopped her from making her way towards Lincoln.

“Lexa won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmurs sleepily. “She’ll probably give Clarke heat when she finds out what she tried to do.”

Octavia cuddles closer to Lincoln and chuckles, realizing that he’s right but then she frowns. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to protect me instead of Lexa?”

“No. A mad Clarke is the scariest thing. Even to me.”

“Wow.”

Lincoln chuckles softly and berries his face in Octavia’s hair. And Octavia revels in the sound and the feeling.

They’re both seconds away from falling asleep when out of fucking nowhere, the alarm clock starts blaring. Octavia almost sits up, her heart in her fucking throat. “What the fuck?” She then feels Lincoln tear his body from her own and she can’t help but whine. “Where the hell are you going? Get back here!”

“Your brother,” is all he says and she frowns, watching him as he puts a shirt over his head.

“What about Bellamy?”

Lincoln freezes and gives her a disbelieving look before he shakes his head fondly. “Did you forget that he’s in our guest room concussed, with a broken nose?”

Octavia’s eyes widen. She sure did.

“Of course I didn’t.”

  
\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

 

Opening the mirrored medicine cabinet, Clarke’s blue eyes dart all over it as she looks for a specific white bottle with the codones she keeps in it for emergencies. Her eyes never lock on the bottle of pain killers though. Instead, something else catches her eye. An orange bottle with **Lexa Woods** imprinted on the label sits neatly on the bottom layer. It’s Lexa’s meds, Clarke knows. They’re the antipsychotics Lexa takes every morning.

The brunette has been taking antipsychotics since middle school. Her mix martial arts training was not enough to help her fend off her disorder, so Lexa’s mom resorted to her therapist’s advice on medication even though Gustus and Lexa hated the idea. Even though the medication was not always helpful, sometimes it was. It was hard to tell, but sometimes it was the necessary shove Lexa needed in order to walk away from a situation. Sometimes it was the reason why Lexa smiled at her teachers every morning. Sometimes, it was even the reason why Lexa could take on an opponent during training without losing control. But no matter how good they were (and are) for Lexa, Lexa still hated taking them —

_( “Jesus! Just take them! They help you and you know it, Lexa! it’s two a day and all you have to do is walk to the nurse’s office and take them. How hard is that?”_

_“They make me feel wrong and weak, Clarke. I don’t need to depend on this shit.”_

_“Take them for me, then.”_

_“Clarke—“_

_“No, listen, Lexa. These little pills don’t make you weak. These little pills keep you fucking safe! And you know what? You might not care what happens, but I do! So stop being fucking stubborn and take them or I swear to god, Lexa, I will shove them down your throat myself! And you know me. You know I’ll do it!”_

_“Such a dick.”_

_“What?”_

_“I said fine!” )_

— hell, she still hates taking them. And Clarke understands that, she does. But she also understands that Lexa taking her medication helps her greatly and it tops anything to do with pride. It helps Lexa control herself more than she can on her own. It practically helps her from getting injured or hurt when Clarke or someone else isn’t there to do it for her. So the medication itself is not what catches Clarke’s eye. Nope. It’s the fact that the bottle is full. The bottle is full, to the fucking brim and Clarke is suddenly seething with rage because she knows Lexa’s next refill is in three days and _the bottle is fucking full_.

Now that she wraps her head around it, she realizes that there’s a huge ass fucking chance that the anger, the fight, the panic, the blood, and the bruises she witnessed, could’ve all been avoided.

“Motherfucker,” Clarke grits out, her face the definition of anger. She grips the sink painfully hard till her knuckles go white. She hopes to all the gods that Lexa didn’t do this to be petty or prideful (or spiteful). “Idiot, idiot, idiot!”

Grabbing the orange bottle, Clarke slams the mirrored medicine cabinet shut and walks out of the bathroom, a storm raging within.

Lexa better pray with her gay ass.

/

Lexa tries to recall the fucked up tranquility she felt as soon as her fist had collided with Emerson’s face, because she knows that if she doesn’t stop the boiling in her blood — the boiling that hasn’t subsided — she just might have to bloody her fist on something once again. Her jaw clenches, hard, as she tries to will herself to remember the calming effect the fight brought her. But the more she pushes to remember, the further away the tranquil and happy feeling of being free from her anger goes.

Rage and anger: her only companions as of late and apparently, all those bloody punches she threw and landed, were not enough to keep them abated. Lexa has so much fury in her and so much frustration right now and she hates it, hates that her emotions are the worst when they show themselves in uncontrollable situations where she unwillingly lets her anger boil over until it’s nothing but desirable.

Lexa looks down at her hands from where she’s leaning against the wall as she waits for Clarke — and clenches and unclenches them. She feels them shake, but they’re not shaking, and she knows its all in her head and worse of all, she knows why she’s feeling this, why she’s feeling the overdrive of tonight’s incident settle down slower than usual.

_Why_ , comes in the form of two little green pills that she hasn’t been taking. Two little green pills that have gone ignored for a little over a week. The effects of not taking them was something Lexa hasn’t been feeling in the last couple of day. Not until now. No until she lost control. But of course, Lexa won’t admit it. If she won’t admit that the pain she caused tonight is affecting her, she most definitely won’t admit that disregarding something as small as two small pills, is affecting her.

Her stubborn pride is bigger than her dick.

There’s a phone sitting on her mahogany dresser— _her_ _phone_ — and it becomes the center of her attention as she tries to distract herself from the fidgety feeling in her body. The iPhone is still off and she debates whether to switch it awake so that she can read all the messages she received earlier. From what she was able to see earlier, there were plenty from Anya and plenty from Lincoln, and by morning come, she knows there’s going to be plenty from her father.

“Fuck.”

With a shake of her head, Lexa opens up a cupboard, grabs her phone, and shoves it inside before slamming it shut. If she threw it a little too hard, her disaray of a head isn’t letting her realize it.

Tonight went down horribly for her and for her friends. She’s embarrassed, to say the least, and she’s also ashamed. Ruining her friends’ and her siblings’ plans was not what tonight was supposed to be about. Hurting them wasn’t even on the bottom of the fucking list. (When she thinks about how she hurt her sister and how she hurt Bellamy, she doesn’t know if wants to punch a wall or fucking cry.) Yet she succeeded in that too and now she feels like a pile of shit. Right now, she doesn’t know what she’ll say to them. An apology is fucking shit. So she keeps the phone inside the dresser and turns her attention to the mirror above.

Which.. bad idea.

Her face is obviously fucking beat and she knows she won’t be showing up to the office for at least a week. Gustus is going to love that. Lexa can tell that her left eye is going to be shut when she wakes up in the morning and the light purple bruises on her cheekbones are going to be dark and so prominent. She growls, “just amazing.”

Lifting up her tank, she immediately grimaces. Which again, bad idea. The red and irritated bruises she came with are now purple and blue and yellow. Her abs look like they have galaxies on them (galaxies she hasn’t seen in a very long time). And as she traces her fingers over each bruise, she realizes that even though the pain is bearable now, it does not mean that tomorrow morning it will be. “You’re good,” she mutters to herself as she feels her breathing get a little heavier. “You’re fine.”

The bathroom door opening and slamming shut — accompanied by loud stomping — makes her turn around.

“What the fuck is this _!?_ ” a low and ominous snarl greets her, then an orange bottle is suddenly being slammed against her chest and she looks up from the bottle, surprised green meeting raging blue. Lexa looks back down at her chest and examines the bottle and swallows, because oh right, she hasn’t been taking her medication and _oh_ _shit_ , she forgot Clarke was in there.

“Answer me, Lexa,” Clarke growls angrily. “What the hell is this _?!_ ”

“They are my meds, Clarke,” she answers nonchalantly with a shrug, knowing that’s not what Clarke’s asking, knowing that will only piss off the blonde even more. And yeah, Clarke’s lips curl up into a vicious scowl and Lexa finds herself swallowing again.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Lexa! I know what they are!” Clarke takes a threatening step towards her and Lexa has to force herself not to feel threatened by Clarke in her weakened state. “Why the _fuck_ are they full _?!_ ”

Lexa huffs out a breath, an annoyed one because she realizes that Clarke is all in her face suddenly acting like she cares. Suddenly acting like if she wasn’t absent for two weeks— and Clarke’s rage is suddenly bleeding through. “Why haven’t you been taking them, Lexa _?!_ Answer me!”

Lexa doesn’t answer.

Instead she grabs the orange bottle, opens it, and shakes two very green pills into her palm before swallowing them without any water. It’ll be a couple of minutes before she feels better, before she feels real, but nonetheless, she still relaxes a bit when she feels her meds settle in her belly. “You know I don’t like them,” Lexa mutters as she walks towards the bed, her head starting to hurt. No doubt the effects of tonight’s fight and low-key Clarke’s hissing.

She freezes midway though, when Clarke angrily says,

“Holy shit. I can’t believe I forgot how much of a child you can be!”

Lexa rotates her body around till she’s facing the smaller and angry blonde, and bends her head down as she lets out a low and humorless laugh.

Childish? Her?

“Fuck you, Clarke. Now is not the time for your shit.”

“Now is not the time? Are you kidding me? Look at you!” Clarke shouts, her eyes tracing Lexa’s swollen eye and her bruised neck. “Two pills, Lexa. Two fucking pills and we wouldn’t be here tonight! But no, right? You just had to be a 14 year old child all over again!”

Clarke’s really testing her, Lexa concludes. She hates it when they call her a child. She is not a child.

“You were gone for how long?” Lexa says through gritted teeth and Clarke falters for a few beats. Lexa’s green eyes are darker than before. “Two fucking weeks, right?” she asks Clarke, her question a rhetorical one and the blonde clenches her jaw, tensing at the subject before opening her mouth to respond. But Lexa doesn’t let her talk, too far gone into her angry rant to stop. “You found me with another woman, another woman you knew and instead of staying and talking to me like a fucking adult, you left and ignored my calls, my messages, and my emails like if I was just some girl on the side!” she takes a step towards Clarke— who’s just standing there so still, her mouth slightly open in shock. “So if anyone here is a fucking child, it’s _you_ ,” Lexa growls out as she pokes Clarke in the chest, “not me.”

Feeling lighter after getting that shit off her chest, Lexa inhales and exhales deeply. She’s still standing in front of Clarke and they’re both just staring at each other, both of their darkened eyes not straying from each others’.

Neither of them are backing down. They’re too stubborn to.

The blonde’s chest is heaving.  
Lexa’s chest is heaving.

The blonde’s fists are clenched.  
Lexa’s fists are clenched.

They’re both still angry.  
They’re both still unbending.

Yet neither of them say anything.  
There’s just palpable silence.  
Palpable silence filled with so much fucking tension.

It eventually breaks.

Lexa unclenches her fists. The orange bottle falls from her faltered grip and she angrily growls out a “fuck you” before surging forward.

/

The brunette is the first one to move, to break, and Clarke doesn’t have much time to react as the brunette grabs her by the hips and roughly slams her against the mahogany dresser. The angry protest she has in her throat is cut off when Lexa’s mouth descends upon hers, angry, and disavowing rather than desirous. Clarke doesn’t know why she’s fighting it, not letting Lexa take control like she usually does. She doesn’t know why she pushes harder against the mouth that’s pushing against her own. She doesn’t know why she immediately opens her mouth to the brunette. Except she does. She's missed this. She's missed Lexa's hands on her body, groping and pulling. Lexa's wet mouth against her own, panting and wet. Lexa's hips pushing against hers, rough and seeking friction.

When their tongues meet, they automatically began to explore each other. Lexa tastes like toothpaste and whiskey and it’s so intoxicating that Clarke just wants more. She hisses when she feels the brunette’s nails roughly scratch her back under the jersey she’s wearing. She nips harshly at Lexa’s lower lip in retaliation till she tastes blood, earning an identical hiss from the other woman. Her own fingers tear at the ties on the brunette’s shorts, trying to to throw the offending garment off the other woman’s body in a rough and desperate attempt to feel Lexa’s skin against her own, Lexa's heat melding into hers.

But then Lexa slaps her hands away, as if to challenge her, as if to infuriate her even more and it works. She fights Lexa, her own hands pushing against the brunette’s in attempt to unknot the fucking ties all while Lexa growls as and nips at her ear, at her neck. Until finally, Lexa's give, gripping Clarke’s ass instead before she lifts her up and onto the dresser, forcing her back into the mirror with such force that Clarke’s surprised it didn’t shatter.

They break apart. Lexa’s keeps her hold on Clarke’s hips, her fingers digging. Their bodies are pressed against each other as they both pant and heave. Their eyes are dark and blown. In anger? In lust? Who fucking knows.

_We’re going to talk_ , echoes in Clarke’s head. But before she can come to her senses, Lexa gives her a look. A challenging one, as if she expects Clarke to pull away. And for some reason, it fuels Clarke on, and as soon as she catches her breath, she yanks the brunette towards her and crashes their lips together again, tangling her fingers into Lexa’s brown locks when the brunette growls and grinds a thigh against her sensitive heat. Her head hits the mirror as Lexa grinds against her over and over and that’s when she realizes she doesn’t hear Lexa’s accustomed breathing and provocations— of whenever they have rough sex.

Slowly and surely Clarke starts to come back to her senses, realizing shit. Rough sex is something she and Lexa have had fun with many times before. It's something they're accustomed to. And this feels rough and it even looks rough. But it’s not. It’s full of the only thing fueling them. Anger. And that’s not good.

So as she starts to come back to her senses, Clarke starts to realize that this is starting to feel illicit. But when she drags a hand down Lexa’s abs and down Lexa’s loose shorts, cupping Lexa’s cock over her briefs, that does it for her. She knows she to stop this because Lexa’s not hard in her hand like she usually is with her. The brunette isn’t even sporting a semi and Lexa is always hard for her. It doesn’t feel illicit anymore. It feels wrong.

“Lexa, wait,” she manages to gasps out but the brunette is still grinding a thigh against her, her mouth hot and wet against Clarke’s throat. But Clarke will not be dissuaded. She puts a firm hand over Lexa’s chest and lightly pushes her back at the same time she says, “stop.”

Of course, Lexa stops. Her wide green eyes bore into Clarke’s blue ones as her chest rises and falls heavily. The brunette looks mad and frustrated and Clarke doesn’t why.

“You don’t want this?” Lexa asks, her words vacant, her question almost sneered, and Clarke feels like she might throw up. “Isn’t this what you want, Clarke? What you’re really here for?”

With pursed lips, Clarke puts her hands on Lexa’s chest and shoves her hard, the anger that dissipated only minutes ago crawling back up again. The brunette stumbles back, giving Clarke enough space to climb off the dresser and pull up the sweats Lexa managed to slightly pull down. “God dammit, Lexa!” she yells is frustration as she runs a hand through her face. “I only want this when you do!”

“Who says I don’t?”

“Your body did, Lexa.”

Lexa clenches her jaw. “I was getting there—“

“Don’t even lie to me,” Clarke says, an unimpressed look on her face. “And fuck, Lexa. I am not here to have sex with you. That is not what I wanted, ok?”

“You could’ve fooled me,” Lexa murmurs disdainfully as she walks away from Clarke, but not before she pointedly looks at the small wet stain that’s on the front of Clarke’s sweats. It’s a low blow. One that hurts Clarke. But also one that pisses her off because it’s so unfair. And then Lexa says, “Every time you’re here, it seems like that’s all you want from me, Clarke.”

“Hey! Don’t you dare say this is all me! Don’t you fucking dare blame me,” Clarke growls out as she grabs Lexa’s arm and yanks her back. “I have never forced you to fuck me, Lexa,” she tells the brunette once she’s facing her. “Just like you have never forced me to answer your fucking 4am calls all those nights. Jesus, you’re acting like if you couldn’t of stopped it whenever you wanted to! You’re acting like if I was the only one who wanted it— this —when we both know you did too!”

They don’t stop to ask themselves what “this” might be and why it’s falling apart.

“Sex is not why I’m here,” Clarke says, repeating her earlier statement, and she lets go of Lexa’s arm. “And it’s not what I want.” _What I want is you._

Lexa shakes her head tiredly. “What is it that you want then, Clarke?”

“I just,“ Clarke starts, “I just want to talk.”

Her explantation makes Lexa’s face harden and oh shit, Clarke recognizes that look.

/

“Are you fucking serious _?!_ ” Lexa almost shouts, her anger getting the best of her before she can even think to stop it. “ _Now_ you want to fucking talk, Clarke? Really _!?_ ”

She laughs in utter disbelief because for two weeks, she spent her days trying to _talk_ to Clarke. For two weeks, Lexa lost sleep because the idea of Clarke never coming back to her haunted her. For two weeks, she let herself become vulnerable and weak for Clarke. For two fucking weeks, Lexa _just wanted to talk_. But of now they’re going to talk. Now that Clarke wants to, right?

Lexa pauses, realizing this is getting way out of hand for her, and decides to take a breather.

Walking over to the bed, Lexa gingerly sits on it and puts her face in her hands, trying to think happy thoughts because her chest suddenly hurts and she can’t feel her meds working. But thinking happy thoughts backfires because every happy thought ironically leads to the reason why she’s angry in the first place. Blonde hair and blue eyes. And on top of that, everything is starting to hit her all at once. Exhaustion, pain, and overwhelming emotions— and It’s too much.

_You’re good, you’re fine._

Beside her, the bed dips and she feels Clarke sit next to her. Her hands are still on her face but then Clarke peels one of them off and intertwines their fingers together (Lexa didn’t even know her hands were shaking until she saw that her hand was making Clarke’s shake). Lexa curses her traitorous gay body when she feels her heart stutter and her fucking anger dissipate slowly.

They’re like that for a long while, till Lexa speaks up. “It sucks—“ her voice a whisper, her jaw flexing, her green eyes glued to the carpeted floor, and she can feel Clarke’s eyes on the side of her face. “—that I can’t really hate you. It sucks, that as soon as I heard your voice in that alley, I forgave you. And it sucks, that my life is shit when you’re not in it.” She hears Clarke swallow, sees out of the corner of her eye Clarke’s head drop, and she didn’t mean for it to sting. She was just stating a facts, things that have been the same since she was a kid.

The blonde runs a thumb over the top of her hand, tracing the bandage on Lexa’s knuckles and Lexa looks up, chancing a glance at Clarke. “I’m sorry,” the blonde woman breathes out, vulnerability lacing her soft apology and Lexa can see her eyes brimming with tears.

Lexa shrugs. “It’s not your fault, Clarke.” And it’s really not. Lexa knows that feelings are inevitable. And from experience, she knows that no matter how hard one tries to ignore them or drop them, they still come back and bite you in the ass, changing you. With Lexa, it was with Clarke. Clarke’s amazing, kind, beautiful, and so much more. So falling for Clarke was the easiest thing she's ever done. But trying to forget Clarke, that was the hardest thing she's ever tried to do. That shit was inevitable and so fucking easy. So she can’t really blame Clarke. Not for something is actually her own fault.

After a quiet moment, Clarke speaks up again. “I’m sorry.” she says again, a shake in her voice and Lexa frowns.

“What for?”

Clarke inhales shakily, like if she’s trying her hardest not to cry. “For tonight,” she says and Lexa’s frown deepens. “If I wouldn’t of left. If i would’ve just stayed and talked to you like you said, maybe tonight wouldn’t—“

“Shut the fuck up,” Lexa mutters sternly with a firm shake of her head. She wraps her head around what Clarke just said and can’t help but chuckle a little because fuck, it’s so like Clarke to blame herself for something that wasn’t her fault. “What happened was not your fault. You know that. Hell, it wasn’t even mine.” Lexa shucks her hand away from Clarke’s and turns it over, showing Clarke the small nail marks that are engraved on her palm. They look like four tiny and angry red crescent moons.

“You tried to stop?”

“I did,” Lexa nods. “I mean, it was obviously not enough but—”

"Lexa, shut up.” The blonde tangles her arm with Lexa’s and intertwines their fingers together. She rests her head fall on Lexa’s shoulder as she lets her body lean against Lexa’s.

“We’re a mess,” Lexa says after a moment and Clarke snorts.

“That’s an understatement.”

“Clarke?” Lexa then says and Clarke lifts her head off her shoulder to look at her.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask why?” she murmurs, her head cocked to the side as she looks at Clarke curiously, and when the blonde’s brow furrows, Lexa elaborates. “Why did you leave for so long? I mean, was is it because she was family and you didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t know?”

Clarke takes a moment to respond. Her eyes are casted forward as her thumb continues to stroke the top of Lexa’s hand, like if she’s mulling over what to say.

“I _was_ angry at you because she was my cousin—” _and i was jealous_ “—and I stormed out because of that. But leaving for so long, had nothing to do with that. At least not fully.” Clarke doesn’t need to look over at Lexa to know that she’s confused.

“Okay,” Lexa nods, confused as fuck. “Then why? What’s the real reason? I just can’t wrap my head around it, Clarke.”

Clarke takes another moment, as if to mull her words over again. “It’s stupid but I won’t not lie to you,” — _anymore...kinda_ — she finally says and Lexa squeezes her hand, encouraging her. “I needed to clear my head. There was so much going on inside of it and it was just too overwhelming for me. Then, I saw you with Harper—“ she swallows “—and it became like the breaking point and I just couldn’t deal.”

“Oh,” Lexa says with a slow nod, even though Clarke’s explanation has her even more confused. What did Clarke need to clear her head from? What was going on inside Clarke’s head that became too much? And why was finding her with Harper Clarke’s breaking point? Lexa is determined to have those questions answered tonight cause fuck being confused. “Tell me,” Lexa says, their hands still intertwined. “What did you need to clear your head from?”

Clarke takes in a shaky breath, faces her, and then answers.

“From you, Lexa.”

Lexa frowns, confused… again.

That didn’t answer shit.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

 

“Bellamy, come on man, open your eyes.”

“Boi, if you don’t get the fuck out of my face,” Bellamy grumbles as Lincoln gently shoves him once more, his words coming out slurred most likely due to the pain meds the hospital prescribed him with. "Let me sleep you milk dud."

“I just have to check you up a bit, Bellamy. It’s just for a couple of minutes and then you can go back to sleep,” Lincoln pleads, trying to reason, but Bellamy slaps his hand away from his chest and Lincoln sighs in utter defeat. Bellamy then smirks in sleepy triumph when he hears the door to the guest room open and close, footsteps echoing away in the hall. “Thank god,” Bellamy sighs, thinking that Lincoln is finally going to let him sleep without annoyingly shoving him every other hour.

_Sike._

A couple of minutes later, he hears two sets of foot steps in the hall instead of one, before the door flies open and loudly slams against the wall. And Jesus fucking Christ, can't he just sleep? “Bellamy fucking Blake,” Octavia growls out between gritted teeth. “Get the fuck up or I swear to _god_ I’m gonna re-break that fucking nose of yours!”

Brown eyes immediately fly open in fear. Bellamy isn’t dumb. He knows not to fuck with his sleep deprived sister, no matter how high he might be.

“You’re a fucking traitor,” Bellamy murmurs over to Lincoln as the bald man smirks from behind Octavia.

“Shut the hell up and let Lincoln check you,” Octavia snaps. “Stop being a baby.”

“You stop being a baby.”

“ _You_ stop being—“

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  

  
_Another break? Is she insane?_

“Nope.”

“Clarke, just wait a second—“

“No! _No_ , Lexa! We don’t need more time! You’re—you’re being—no! We’re fine!”

They’ve been at it for like thirty fucking minutes. Just like this. Yelling, disagreeing, arguing, etc. It’s surprising that Lexa’s neighbors haven’t filed a complaint on their loud and stubborn asses.

After Clarke told Lexa that she was the partial reason why her head became too much for her to handle, Lexa immediately suggested that they take a (another) break. Because Lexa told her that she didn’t want to be the reason why Clarke was losing touch with herself.

Obviously, Lexa doesn’t like the idea the idea of another fucking break and she tells herself that she doesn’t have to like it since it’s what’s best. But Clarke, Clarke hates the idea and she’s slowly regretting telling Lexa the partial truth.

“Fine?” Lexa asks incredulously as she shakes her head. “We are not fine, Clarke! You needed to clear your head from me. How is that fine? I just—” she takes a few steps back and takes a deep breath and Clarke knows she’s not going to like what Lexa says next. “I think that maybe I need to do the same. Clear my head or whatever.”

_An eye for a fucking eye._

Clarke’s heart stops, her resolve on an edge.

“What do you mean?” she asks Lexa, her voice unsteady. She asks the question even though she already knows what Lexa is thinking. She can read her like an open book after all.

Lexa swallows and begins pacing again, Clarke’s eyes nervously following her every move from where she sits on the bed’s edge.

“My father is establishing a new firm-charter in London—” Lexa starts and Clarke feels her heart in her throat, already done with this. _London_? She feels her resolve falling and falling and falling. “—and he needs someone there. Someone to temporarily run things while he looks for a suitable candidate that can take on the responsibility of that position. And with the way business is going here, it might take him about three months.”

“Three months.” Clarke echoes in quiet disbelief. _Three fucking months?_

“Yes. Three months. Maybe more time if things change but—“

Clarke’s losing her head as Lexa continues to speak. Her hands are shaking from where she’s gripping the bedsheets tightly. She’s frozen. Completely and utterly frozen.

_London._

_Three months._

_No._

“I think I should go to London, Clarke.“

That snaps her back into reality and now Clarke can’t breathe, panic starting to boil beneath her skin and it’s rising and rising and—

“Lexa, wait—“

“It’s three months, maybe that’s more than enough time for me but—

“Lexa, stop talking—“

“—maybe that’s what I need. Maybe that's what _we_ need, you know? And I don’t have—“

“Don’t do this—“

“‘—to like it. But hell, maybe it’s what’s best for—“

**“I’m in love with you!”**

Clarke is standing now.— Wait, when the fuck did she stand up?— Her eyes are wild and her chest is heaving and Lexa is frozen on the spot, her mouth wide open like a fucking fish and Clarke would laugh, because Lexa’s expression is so fucking funny but then she realizes what she just blurted out and…

Oh, fuck.

and…

Oh, shit.

“ _Clarke_ ,” Lexa breathes out, her green eyes wide, her throat bobbing.

And… _oh, fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why did you read this mess
> 
> some of the scenes and shit were prompts that were requested on the dm. so, shoutout to u few. 
> 
> come harass me on twitter: @lexagriff


	13. Wait, You Are In Love With Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an eye for an eye isn't always a bad thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here i come, all late and shit

_**(NOW)** _

The sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin is rhythmic and merciless in the dimly lit room. The grandeur view of the lit city below can be fully seen through the high glass walls that make up the entirety of Lexa’s bedroom. So as the moon rises to it’s peak, it also illuminates Lexa’s bedroom, where she continues to fuck Clarke without abandon.

“ _Oh, fuck. Oh, god,_ ” she moans out as slick and tight heat continues to suck her in so good, the blonde’s pale skin reddening from the intense and sharp thrusts she offers from above. “You feel _so good_ around me, baby.” Clarke’s legs tighten around her waist and Clarke’s inner walls flutter slightly, squeezing Lexa’s throbbing length. Holding in her breath, Lexa refrains herself from shooting her load inside of Clarke, her abdomen tensing immediately.

“Stop, stop, stop,” she says rapidly, and Clarke bites her lip as she lets her head fall against the pillow, Lexa following as she rests her sweating forehead against Clarke’s. She takes in a few deep breaths, willing the way her dick throbs almost painfully, to stop. It doesn’t matter that they’ve been at it for a long while. It doesn’t matter that she’s lost count of how many times she’s made Clarke cum around her. It doesn’t matter because she _still_ doesn’t want to cum, this being too good for her for it to end so soon.

“You alright there, champ?” Clarke’s voice is edging on amusement, and Lexa hoists herself up, both hands on either side of Clarke’s head as she looks down at the grinning blonde.

“Yeah, never better,” she murmurs back, even though she’s panting hard and her voice is an octave higher. “I’m totally and completely fine.”

“Oh? Are you now,” the blonde woman teases, and with a waving grind of her body, she thrusts upwards, slowly sliding up and down Lexa’s dick. In turn, Lexa’s thighs tremble before she roughly pushes Clarke’s hips down, a small whimper leaving her mouth at the delicious torture.

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ,” she murmurs, her breaths heavy as she looks down at the woman who is driving her insane. There’s sweat clinging to Clarke’s breasts, making her skin glisten in the moon’s shining light. With one hand, Clarke begins to pinch at her own nipples, moaning and groaning as she does so, and Lexa growls, knowing the blonde’s only doing this to tease her and she curses her easy body for being so weak when all she wants to do is move her hips and cum inside of Clarke. And as if to make matters worse for her, the blonde woman uses her other hand to drag it down her own naked body— Lexa gulping as her eyes follow the slow movement —and brings it down to where both of their bodies are connected. With a high whine, Clarke begins to toy with her swollen clit, rolling it in between her own fingers as she looks up at Lexa, her lip in between her teeth to hide the satisfied smirk Lexa knows she’s hiding.

“Jesus Christ.”

Clarke Griffin will be the death of her, this Lexa knows.

_And what a way to go_ , she thinks.

“You demon,” she tells Clarke when the blonde begins to laugh and when Lexa finally demes herself ready, she uses her new grip on the headboard to slide out of Clarke before pounding her way back in. And oh, revenge has never felt so good. “ _Yeah_ ,” she grunts out when Clarke screams out in surprise and pure ecstasy. “ _God_ , I fucking love you.”

Loud whines and moans spill out from Clarke’s lips before they’re suddenly silenced by a pair of insistent plump ones, plump ones that graciously swallow every sound she offers.

“Lexa,” Clarke manages to moan out between the bruising kiss, teeth and tongues clashing wetly. “ _God_ , baby, I—“ That’s all the blonde manages to say before Lexa crashes their lips together again.

It wasn’t something that was needed to be said, Lexa understood Clarke’s unsaid words and now Clarke is showing her what she meant to say by nipping at the sensitive skin of her lower lip, pulling it between her teeth before sucking on it eagerly. Clarke’s hands find purchase on Lexa’s back, scratching and scraping roughly as Lexa thrusts deep and fast, and in response, Lexa’s fingers dig into the headboard of her bed, where her nails scrape against the hard material.

Once more, the two women withdraw from the kiss to release soft moans and grunts and to _breathe_. Hot breaths tickle Clarke’s ear as Lexa nips at it, one of her hands slipping between their sweaty bodies to rub firm and hard circles around Clarke’s clit as she continues to fuck her relentlessly.

“Oh,” Clarke moans out, her eyes closing immediately as Lexa’s nimble fingers continue to play with her clit.. “ _Yes, yes. Lexa, please!_ ”

“Say it,” Lexa commands as she bites hard on Clarke’s neck, her fingers and her hips stilling, and Clarke gasps and whines with shameless want. “Say it _again_.”

There’s suddenly a fast blur of movement and Lexa’s too high on her own arousal and lust that she doesn’t really have it in her to realize what’s happening— until she finds herself on her back, Clarke straddling her hips and starting a slow grind.

In a single and smooth move, the blonde hoists herself up and lowers herself onto Lexa, moaning at the stretch of Lexa’s head pushing into her. Lexa hisses and arches her back at the sensation as she places her hands on Clarke’s waist, guiding the blonde all the way down until she’s seated and filled with her entire length. The blonde buries her face into Lexa’s neck, breathing hard as she adjust to Lexa’s dick. Clarke’s wet, really wet but that doesn’t mean Lexa’s not big. Biting her lip to keep still, Lexa runs her hands over the blonde’s chest, occasionally pinching a pink nipple as she distracts herself from not thrusting into Clarke like she desperately wants too. The blonde always feels to smooth and tight and wet around her, and it never fails to get her overwhelmed whenever she’s inside of her.

After a while, the blonde tentatively move her hips, and with a moan, she finally says what Lexa’s been commanding her to say.

_“I love you.”_

**_(THEN)_ **

_“I’m in love with you, Lexa!”_

/

_It’s dark_ , she thinks, because the only thing that’s lit, is a small lamp. It’s the green lamp she got Lexa a couple of months ago. It’s also the same lamp that’s sitting next to Lexa’s bed, illuminating absolutely nothing but the bedside table. It’s dark. Yet she can see the angry clench of Lexa’s jaw perfectly clear.

_It’s loud_ , she thinks, because Friday nights always are. A few roaming sirens echo out, a few cars honking in the highway, people laughing and shouting can be heard out in the hall of Lexa’s floor too. It’s loud. Yet she can hear Lexa’s stuttering breaths perfectly clear.

_It hurts_ , she thinks, because Lexa’s not looking at her. Lexa’s not looking at her. Lexa’s not looking at her. It hurts. Yet—

/

With the heavy weight of immediate regret, Clarke watches as the brunette stares down at her hands, hands that are sealed so fucking tightly that they’ve turned alarmingly white. It looks like Lexa’s spaced out. Her green eyes are dark and void of any emotion, of any feeling. Nonetheless, Clarke still looks straight into those emotionless eyes, studying the green orbs since they always seem to show whatever Lexa’s so induced into hiding. But this time, there’s nothing there. There is nothing Clarke can see. There is nothing Clarke can find. But that doesn’t stop her from still trying though, her stubbornness and fear not letting her give up.

So she tries and tries to see past Lexa’s sharp green eyes, trying to decipher and decode at least a fraction of any fucking emotion (because she just dropped a fucking bomb, a dumbass fucking bomb) but she doesn’t succeed— not with they way her own hands are trembling and not with the way her own heart is pounding profusely in her ears. She can’t even manage to suck in a single steady breath past her tight throat.

( _I’m in love with you, Lexa!_ ) —

She snaps her eyes shut in pure anger towards herself and internally shakes her head. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

Neither of them have moved a single inch since her accidental confession and Clarke herself doesn’t even dare move from her position, afraid that she’ll be overwhelmed by the unyielding tremble that’s threatening to overtake her entire fucking body.

What the fuck has she done?

/

Being in love with Lexa isn’t something Clarke’s recently realized. It isn’t something Clarke’s just found out about days, weeks, or even months ago.

No.

It’s been _years_ since she realized she was in love with Lexa Woods. Fucking _years_. And in that time. she’s gone through it all. Through the cliche pining, through the aches, through the sleepless nights, through the agonizing heart ache. In between all that shit, there were times where she wanted to tell Lexa the fucking truth. Times where she wanted to tell Lexa she was hurting her because the feeling in her chest was becoming too heavy. But just like those thoughts came, they quickly vanished because she quickly realized that telling Lexa the truth would risk her, Lexa. And Clarke could not afford that because Lexa was her person and Lexa was not the one to blame for the heavy feeling in her chest.

As the years progressed and she grew and changed, she became stronger in her own self, weaknesses be damned. During those changes, the aches became a distant memory and she no longer found herself thinking of Lexa during lecture class, she no longer imagined what it would feel like if Lexa loved her back and she no longer felt that pinch of hollowness she would feel when she would sleep with Lexa.

Incrementally, she fell out of love with her best friend (or so she thought) and then she met Finn, met someone who could love her back, met someone who could make her forget why love brought pain.

Finn was great. He treated her well, spoiled her in the best of ways, and made her think that he was her soulmate.

But of course, love— like life —was a fucking bitch.

Finn cheated on her literal months after they got married, claiming that she wasn’t spending enough time with him and that he was lonely. It was bullshit, total bullshit, and so she left and cheated back because she was angry, hurt, betrayed, and more than anything, she was broken.

(But cheating back was her first mistake and she should’ve fucking known that underestimating things would always come back to bite her in the ass.)

She fucking cheated back with someone she thought she _used_ to love, with someone she thought she fell out of love with, and as a result, she got slapped in the face with the past— and all those sleepless nights, all those morning where she couldn’t breathe, and all those aches— came rushing back like a huge ass tidal wave. Except this time it was at full force. Except this time, she wasn’t young and strong enough to deal with it. Except this time, that big ass wave took her under.

But she tried, at least, to not let it drown her.

Two weeks after Finn cheated and two weeks after ‘meaningless’ sex with her best friend, she forgave Finn because she _did_ love him. (She told herself that it had nothing to do with the fact that she knew she was falling for her best friend again. She told herself that it had nothing to do with the fact that she could use her already fading love for Finn to trump the one that was starting to blossom.) So she let Finn promote his promise. He took her out on expensive dates, opened car doors for her and treated her to flowers— all while she convinced herself that it was working, that they were slowly fixing their relationship.

But of course, fixing what Finn broke and trying not to fall for her best friend again, fucking failed.

It failed because Lexa was like a fucking drug, so addicting. It failed because she kept on sleeping with Lexa and Lexa kept sleeping with her. It failed because this time, Lexa would fuck her slow and soft and timely and it felt _different_. So sooner rather than later, she found herself falling into that dark ass hole called love, _again_.

And it was cliche as shit. At first, it hurt her in the greatest kind of way. It was stomach curling and giddiness filled, like a crush. She’d find herself giggling and blushing every morning when Lexa would text her something silly or when Lexa would text her _hey, beautiful_. She’d find herself thinking of Lexa when Finn would fuck her fast and unsteadily. She’d find herself wasting her thirty minute lunch break daydreaming about a lithe muscular body with glistening abs and green lust filled eyes.

It was all wrong but it felt right in the best kind of way. The good didn’t last long though. She knew it wasn’t meant to. This wasn’t her first rodeo after all.

Soon that innocent pain grew into sharp aches. It grew into a painful sort of longing, making it hard for her to breathe some nights. It was overwhelming her and it wasn’t fair because a person shouldn’t have to go through this twice. She didn’t want pain to be the only thing left. She wanted to sleep like a baby every night. She wanted to be able to go to work and not think about Lexa Woods. She wanted to be done with it. And she knew what she had to do. She wasn’t a teenager after all and this time, she had self control.

So she ended the with Lexa, telling the brunette that she didn’t want to sleep with her anymore because she wanted to focus solely on her marriage. Which was all bullshit considering the fact that they were fucking for almost a year after Finn cheated. But Lexa respected her wishes without a fuss, stating bluntly that it would be fine because she had another friend that would sate her. Of course, Clarke knew about this other woman and It hurt Clarke more than she would admit. But in the end it didn’t matter because they stopped sleeping together, courtesy of her own wishes.

That, she thought, was what self control was.

But when they did see each other again, it was three months later and they almost had sex. Self control my ass. And when she saw Lexa after that, her cousin had a hand wrapped around Lexa’s dick, stroking it lazily. That broke the motherfucking damn of overwhelming emotions for Clarke and she yelled and shouted and screamed and fucking _struck_ Lexa— the woman who would never hurt her— like some sort of savage, realizing that her own cousin was the woman she was subconsciously competing against.

Then in self wallowing, she ignored Lexa for two weeks. Because she was hurt. Because it felt like Lexa betrayed her and it was so confusing because Lexa had no fucking idea what she did, she had no idea that she hurt Clarke, she had no idea that Clarke was in love with her and yet Clarke hurt her, which in turn hurt Clarke.

It was a clusterfucking mess of god damn emotions and now here they were. Lexa marred with bruises and cuts and Clarke with a stupid _stupid_ mouth. Apparently her head and her heart made a compromise with each other, tired of Clarke’s ass— because without meaning to, she fucked them up.

“ _I’m in love with you, Lexa!_ ”

And now Lexa won’t look at her. And it hurts to realize that she was right all along. Telling Lexa the truth would fuck them up because it’s so fucking obvious that Lexa does not love her back.

_And it hurts._

/

It takes her by surprise when Lexa breaks the heavy silence that’s been settled.

“Are you lying to me?” is the first thing she whispers, her eyes still casted down while Clarke’s blue eyes burn into her face. “Because if you’re lying, just to get me to stay—“ Lexa’s purses her lips as she takes a breather “—then I swear to fucking god—“

“I’m not lying,” Clarke breathes out in a rush, surprised that her words come out clear and steady and not dismantled, like how she’s feeling. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this, Lexa. Why on earth would I?” Slowly and like if it pained her, the brunette lifts up her head and meets her eyes, like if she needs to make sure Clarke’s not falsifying her words.

Relief courses through Clarke’s body because Lexa is fucking looking at her and she doesn’t look disgusted or shocked— which is good, right? But that relief quickly dies when Lexa immediately sets her gaze else where. Clarke certainly doesn’t take her eyes off the taller woman.

She’ll admit it. The fact Lexa won’t look at her hurts like a bitch, and she doesn’t blame her. She probably just fucked them up completely with her stupid, stupid, mouth.

“Lexa,” her voice comes out smaller than she intends it to. Just saying Lexa’s name hurts and _god_ , this isn’t supposed to be happening. Not now and not like this.

Taking a few steps forward, she finally moves. Without thinking, she lifts up a hand and cups Lexa’s cheek as she moves to touch Lexa’s lips with her own, like she’s done so many fucking times before. Maybe Lexa will smile that gentle smile she has for her when their lips meet. Maybe Lexa will tell her that they can forget about this because that’s what Clarke wants, that’s what Clarke needs. Because she can’t lose Lexa. Not like this.

But before her lips can touch bruised plump ones, Lexa flinches away— from her touch, from her lips, from her presence. It fucking stings, worse than a slap. She drops her hand and tears begin to form. A few fall before she can even think to stop them and Lexa looks like she wants to reach out and wipe them off because Clarke knows Lexa doesn’t like seeing her cry. Her chest ignites with hope when Lexa’s hand _does_ lift itself up. But then the brunette forces it back down with a clenched jaw, like if it pained her, and _fuck_ , Clarke thinks, _this isn’t supposed to be happening._

There’s a look on Lexa’s face, one that goes with the step she takes back and dread fills Clarke’s entire being because she knows that look. She knows that look is the look Lexa gets before she flees, before she runs.

There’s not a second thought that’s given as she reaches out and grabs Lexa by the shirt. Her grip tight and fisted, even as Lexa tugs back for a fraction of a second. “No. Lexa, please—“

“You’re not in love with me,” Lexa growls out, her mouth a snarl and she looks _mad_. “You’re lying! You’re fucking lying to me.” The brunette’s chest rises and falls heavily as her hands begin to shake.

“Wh—what?” Clarke questions in disbelief, her eyes wide. Why the fuck would she be lying? Why the fuck would she risk them like this?

“I think I would know if my best friend was in love with me!” Lexa’s voice is still angry but it’s breaking. “I’m not—I’m not stupid or—or blind!”

Shaking her head, Clarke let’s go of Lexa’s shirt to grip Lexa’s cheeks instead. She ignores the way the brunette flinches when she touches her. “Look at me,” she orders, ignoring the way her words are laced with a sadness that can’t be hidden. The brunette does’t look at her. “Lexa, fucking look at me, please.” Reluctantly, Lexa does. “You know me, Lex,” she starts, a bit desperate and on edge and she doesn’t care if she sounds weak. “You know _me_. You know me better than anyone! And I am telling you that I am in love with you.”

The brunette closes her eyes when Clarke repeats her confession, like if she doesn’t want to believe it or hear it, like if the words psychically hurt her, and so Clarke shakes her head, ignoring the pain that brings her because Lexa has to hear this, Lexa has to believe her no matter how much it hurts because this shit is out of the bag and this shit has to be said.

“Open your eyes. Lexa! Fucking look at me, dammit! I’m in love with you!” Her words are angry and scornful and pained, nothing like a pure confession of that type is supposed to have and again, Lexa flinches.

But slowly and after a moment, the brunette opens her eyes, eyes that suddenly do not leave Clarke’s, and she breathes out a simple and plain, “okay.”

Blue eyes widen, shocked and angry. “Okay? That’s— that’s all you have to say?”

Lexa swallows hard and looks away before nodding once. “Yes,” she says again, her words holding no emotion, like if she doesn’t care. “It’s okay.”

It’s obviously not okay and Clarke clenches her fists, wanting nothing more than to shake the shit out of Lexa. Clarke knows what’s happening now. She thinks Lexa’s avoiding _this_. Because if it was okay, there wouldn’t be tears welling up inside Lexa’s eyes. If it was okay, Lexa wouldn’t be avoiding her face. If it was okay, Lexa wouldn’t be grabbing Clarke’s hands and pulling them away from her face. If it was okay, Lexa wouldn’t be turning around and walking away.

_No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening._

“Lexa, please don’t do this.”

Clarke’s utterly broken words makes the brunette halt in her steps. And when Lexa turns around, she shakes her head and closes her eyes because Clarke’s face is full of so much agony with tears that are streaming freely, staining pale cheeks.

(It reminds Lexa of the day Clarke came to her after she found Finn cheating on her.)

“Clarke,” Lexa croaks out, and it sounds like she’s pleading. “I cant’t—“ she shakes her head rapidly. “I can’t—“

“Just listen to me, please,” Clarke begs, not caring how weak she sounds because Lexa’s more important than her small pride. Her mind is already on a one way street. She thinks Lexa doesn’t want anything to do with her anymore and that’s why Lexa can’t look at her, that’s why Lexa wants to flee. Her head was so fucking right. She knew that if she was honest about her feelings and told Lexa the fucking truth, Lexa was going to spook and leave because it’s so painfully obvious that she doesn’t love her back. Clarke curses her heart for betraying her like this. But she can still fix this right? Yes, she can. Because she’s done it before. Done the whole, _fuck what I’m feeling_ , for years.

(She doesn’t realize the dumbass irony behind it. She doesn’t realize that the reason why she wants to make these feelings go away, is because of those same feelings for Lexa. She doesn’t realize that there was never a time in her life where she got over Lexa.)  
  
“Don’t leave, just listen,” she moves forward and grips Lexa’s shirt again, strong and unrelenting, like if she’s afraid Lexa will try to go again. “It’s just a feeling, right? A feeling here,” she points to her own chest with her free hand, jabbing it almost painfully with every broken word she says. “It’ll go away. Please, Lexa. I’ll make it go away.”

The brunette shakes her head and laughs short —humorlessly and wetly— but albeit laughs, like if she thought what Clarke is saying is complete and utter bullshit. Clarke won’t have any of it because she can do it. She _will_ do it. So she tightens the grip on Lexa’s shirt as she says, “You have to believe me, Lexa. I will fucking do it, I’ll make it happen. You’re my best friend and I can’t lose you,” tears are slowly trailing down her cheeks, “I’ll ignore it. We can ignore it, and we can just pretend that I never said _anything_. And— and before you know it, this fucking feeling will be gone and I won’t be in love with you anymore and we’ll be _fine_ and you won’t have to leave me!”

It’s hurting and it’s hurting and it’s hurting and why can’t she stop shaking, why can’t she stop crying?

“Clarke, you just can’t,” Lexa grits out, and her voice is suddenly hard like if she _knows_ , like if she were stating a fucking fact. It only makes a splurge of anger course through Clarke’s body because it’s like if the brunette doesn’t even want to give them a chance anymore. It’s like if Lexa’s already given up on them, on _her_. Does she think Clarke so weak? So irreplaceable?

“You can’t just ignore it, Clarke. We won’t be fine,” Lexa continues, her voice still hard even though there are tears flooding her green eyes, tears that she’s too stubborn to let loose. “You can’t just make it go away because you want it too! That’s not how this shit works! You don’t get to choose when—“

“Yes, I do!” Clarke shouts, her eyes glaring even though they’re still glistening with tears. “And I will! I’ll fucking make it go away!”

“Are not listening!” Lexa growls as she shakes her head and Clarke wants to put a hand over her mouth to shut her up. “You can’t just make it go away! You won’t!” and Lexa says it so surely and so factual that it only spikes Clarke’s anger.

“You don’t know that!”

The reply is fast, instant.

“I do!”

Clarke doesn’t really have it in her to really understand or think about Lexa’s words, her reply is angry and instant instead.

“How do you know, Lexa!” she shouts as she lets go of Lexa’s shirt with a hard shove. it hurts that Lexa’s not even trying. It hurts that Lexa’s giving up on her. It hurts that she knows how this will end. The back of her hand comes up to her face and she furiously wipes the tears off of her face. _She will make it go away._ “How do you fucking know!”

Lexa stiffens minutely, and with wide eyes, glances to the floor, to the lamp next to her bed, to the curtains—till her eyes fall back to Clarke yet again, her green eyes boring into Clarke’s blue ones as she swallows hard.

“Because it’s been over five fucking years,” she starts, her words breathless and sad and angry “—and no matter how fucking hard I’ve tried, I’m still in love with you.”

An angry scowl takes over Clarke’s mouth, reflexively ready to respond with something negating, but then Lexa’s word hit her and she freezes.

Desolate silence permeates the air as her mouth clamps shut.

One beat.

Two beats.

Three beats.

A brain starts whirring, deciphering and taking in the brunette’s words.

“What— what did you just—”

_Because it’s been over five fucking years and no matter how hard I’ve fucking tried, I’m still in love with you._

No. _No_.

Realization flies in like a punch to the gut and Clarke’s breath hitches, her blue eyes widening as she finally understands.

Oh. _Oh_.

The edges of her periphery go black and foggy, threatening to consume the fuck out of her vision. Despite her lungs not wanting to let her breathe, she forces air into them. Her blue eyes move rapidly over Lexa’s face, searching for dirt, for a lie, for any sign that Lexa’s fucking with her.

But she finds nothing, and just stands there, frozen and paralyzed in utter shock.

There’s a short circuit in her brain because she _heard_ Lexa’s words, fucking _understood_ the god damn words —and maybe it’s shock or disbelief— but they’re not making any sense to her. Not a single fucking ounce of sense. So dumbly, she asks, “What are you saying to me right now, Lexa?”

And the brunette gulps audibly and forces her eyes to stay on her. “I’m saying, Clarke, that I’m in love with you.”

_How do you fucking know!_

_Because it’s been over five fucking years and no matter how hard I’ve fucking tried, I’m still in love with you._

Lexa is looking at her with so much panic and vulnerability in her eyes, that she wants to chuckle because she’s never seen Lexa like this before and she feels her own self begin to lose it, on a verge of some sort of hysteria.

_Because it’s been over five fucking years and no matter how hard I’ve fucking tried, I’m still in love with you._

This doesn’t make sense. This is not how it goes. She’s supposed to leave heartbroken. She’s supposed to leave with an unrequited heart. She’s supposed to leave with a single and solid side, _hers_.

But Lexa is saying that she loves her. Lexa is saying that she actually fucking loves her.

And she’s still frozen, like the blue eyes that are staring into green.

This is something she’s dreamed of, something she’s wanted, something she’s waited for, something she’s fucking longed for. Her body feels lighter somehow and she remembers that heavy weight in her chest whenever she’d imaged Lexa fucking somebody else.

The room is dead silent and it makes her want to laugh because their friends and family have always said that everything about the two of them together is loud and clumsy. But now they clearly don’t know what to say. _She_ doesn’t know what to say. Because Lexa just said… _Jesus_ , Lexa loves her. Actually fucking loves her.

_Loves her too._

Is she breathing? Who fucking knows.

_Because it’s been over five fucking years and no matter how hard I’ve fucking tried, I’m still in love with you._

“ _You_ , are in love with _me_?” The question is out because she has to make sure she didn’t just fucking make that shit up in her head, even though Lexa’s already said it twice. The brunette’s head snaps up to meet her shocked eyes, like if she didn’t intend for Clarke to speak to her at all. Lexa blinks really fast as her mouth opens and, like a fish, closes. “Wait,” Clarke chokes out as she shakes her head rapidly, like if she were still trying to wrap her head around Lexa’s confession. Her voice is so quiet that it’s barely audible, and she raises an accusing finger at Lexa as tears began to spill on their own. Why is she crying? “ _You_ — _you_ are in love with _me_?” Another one and honestly, she’s going crazy.

_An eye —_

Slowly but surely, Lexa nods, her fists no longer clenched. “I’m in love with you.”

_— for a fucking eye._

Immediately, she wants to accuse Lexa of lying— just like she did to her. She wants to tell Lexa not to fuck with her like this because the way her heart is beating out of her chest is not funny. But Lexa’s eyes are wide and scared and vulnerable and her voice is shaky and panicked and she still doesn’t stop glancing at the door, like if she wants to run. And Clarke knows she’s not lying. But what is she _supposed_ to say? How is she supposed to respond to this blindsiding action? This is not how she saw this ending at all. It honestly feels like a dream because this has only happened in dreams— in the dreams where she’d wake up smiling.

Dazed, lost, and having no clue on how to respond, Clarke just says the first thing that comes to mind.

“Lexa, you’re shaking.”

A pause.

Two hearts beating together.

Two sets of eyes staring into each other.

“So are you, Clarke.”

And _oh right_ , she realizes, _I am_.

_**(NOW)** _

**Both of their confessions had been out in the open, floating between the both of them. Their eyes had been locked and neither of them knew whether they were breathing or not. They also didn’t know whether this was a dream or reality.**

**The first one that had moved had been Lexa, muttering a _fuck it_ under her breath before she’d caught Clarke’s face in between her hands and kissed her.**

**The kiss had started off slow and Clarke wasn’t kissing back, clearly too shocked. But as soon as Lexa began to pull away, Clarke’s own hands came up and pulled at the nape of Lexa’s neck. The kiss from there had become heated and desperate, filled with whimpers as they both nipped and bit at each other’s lips in desperation and in some new sort of _want_.**

**Soon, they had found themselves stumbling over a cabinet where Lexa had lifted Clarke by the underside of her ass and sat her down on it. They, like their lips, had been stuck together like glue. They clung to each other, hands gripping at each others back roughly. They didn’t want to let go of each other, just in case it was all a dream.**

**No words needed to be said. Lexa loved Clarke and Clarke loved Lexa. In that moment, that was all they needed to know.**

**From there it only went uphill and soon they found themselves in bed, naked and sweating and moaning in similar pleasure.**

And that’s exactly how they find themselves now, fucking and in love.

/

It doesn’t take long until both women are panting again, the blonde bouncing on Lexa’s lap, getting herself off and on again with selfish little grinds. Lexa in return, pushes Clarke down in time with her thrusts, hands firm on the blonde’s waist. Her eyes never leave Clarke. She watches her, watches the way Clarke’s breasts shake with every single thrust, watches the way Clarke closes her eyes in pure ecstasy, watches the way Clarke’s wet and swollen clit slides and rubs against her pubic bone. And god, she still can’t believe the woman of her literal dreams actually loves her.

“Fucking love riding you like this,” the blonde breathes out into Lexa mouth, their kiss a messy slide of wet tongues and lips. “ _Shit_. Lexa, I need—“ the blonde starts, but cuts herself off as she grabs Lexa’s hand and pushes Lexa’s thumb in between her lips. Lexa gasps as the the blonde takes her thumb in, sucking on it while she twirls her tongue around it. With this, their rhythm picks up, and Lexa can hear her blood thrumming loudly in her ears. With an obscene wet sound, she pulls her thumb out of the blonde’s mouth and uses it to rub Clarke’s clit. She moves her thumb in time with Clarke’s rocking, and immediately the blonde begins to chant out her name followed by a string of _fuck yes, like that_ and _don’t you fucking stop, baby_.

There’s a tightening in her lower abdomen, one that goes with the way her balls throb, and Lexa can feel herself getting close, _so fucking close._ She lifts her body up, the most her bruised ribs allow, and attempts to nip at Clarke’s breast, just like the blonde likes it. But the throbbing down below has her so dazed and so immobile, that she ends up just moaning and gasping against the blonde’s smooth chest instead.

“So close, _of fuck_ , so close,” Clarke grits out. The blonde then speeds up, her thrusts growing wild and desperate. She slams herself down on Lexa’s dick, selfishly trying to reach her peak and when Lexa increases the pressure of her thumb on her clit, she cries out as her orgasm finally hits her. She clenches around Lexa’s length, tight and oh so tight, and that’s all it takes for Lexa to cum too, spilling spurt after spurt inside of the blonde, her dick pulsing as she continues to push into her.

Their sloppy thrusts as they come down from their highs, slow down until they’re not moving. Lexa’s body, suddenly too sensitive, makes her hips shoot upwards in a sharp thrust when Clarke unintentionally flutters around her dick— and that’s how she knows Clarke is sensitive too because at the sudden intrusion, the blonde moans like a pornstar and her thighs twitch violently before she puts a firm hand on Lexa’s hip. “Too sensitive, baby,” she murmurs and Lexa apologizes by peppering kisses against her sternum.

The blonde flops down on the bed next to Lexa and she gives Lexa that disarming smile of hers, the one Lexa likes to think is only for her. That same smile has Lexa rolling over and slumping over Clarke’s body, the blonde squirming beneath her weight. Plump limps press kisses against Clarke’s sweaty skin— on her neck, on her cheeks, on her jawline— all while Clarke’s hand slowly traces Lexa’s back, down to the base of Lexa’s spine to the back of her neck.

“Lexa,” Clarke whispers into the dark room, feeling the ac’s breeze slightly nip at her sweaty skin. “You’re heavy, baby.”

The brunette makes a humming sound, deep in her throat. “Sorry,” she mumbles before falling next to Clarke. Automatically, Clarke rolls her leg over Lexa’s hips as she lays half of her naked body over Lexa’s— which in turn, makes Lexa hiss and flinch extremely hard.

“What is it?” Clarke prods as she removes herself quickly, her eyes then widening in realization as the moons lighting shadows Lexa’s bruises from earlier. “Oh my god!” She forgot all about tonight, about Lexa’s injured ass and they deadass just had wild ass sex. “Lexa, you idiot!”

Lexa makes an offended noise, her eyes still closed as she puts an arm around her now extremely bruised ribs. “Honestly, Clarke, it was worth it.”

“Jesus.” Clarke stands, naked— scoffing when Lexa decides that now is a good time to open her eyes— and turns on the light.

“Oh, thank god,” she sighs when she runs a her fingers over Lexa’s stitches, relieved to find them still in place. “I’m sorry,” she then says as she runs a hand through Lexa’s hair, making the latter drowsy with sleep. “I don’t know why I forgot that you were—“ A hand grabs her by the arm, and she’s suddenly being flung onto the bed, half of Lexa’s body pinning her down with a head on her neck.

“Shut up,” Lexa grumbles into Clarke’s neck as she drapes the covers over both of them. “Sleep now.”

With a sigh and with a hand cupping her breast, Clarke closes her eyes, willing sleep to overtake her.

“I love you,” is then said into her neck and her eyes open as her heart begins to beat out of her chest in sudden fear.

It still feels unreal. Too unreal. What if… What if it's a dream? All of it?

“I hope this isn’t a dream, Lexa,” she says it and her voice breaks. “Because if you’re not here when I wake up, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

She feels a kiss on the side of her neck and the arm around her waist tightening, before she hears Lexa’s soft voice, the voice she has for her and only her.

“I’ll always be with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *doesn’t know how to dialogue feelings, so goes straight into sex instead and hopes no one notices how messy this is*
> 
> \- in the next chapter, the gang shows up unannounced the morning after and finds out about them by catching them in a very compromising situation and maybe raven yells and maybe lincoln almost kicks bellamy's ass. who knows.
> 
> \- catch me still being bitter about lexa's death (;
> 
> \- follow me on twitter if you'd like @lexagriff, take care homies


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